


The one where Simmons has a gift crisis

by CC_Writes



Series: RvB Secret Santa [1]
Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Anxiety, Fluff, M/M, Multi, Polyamory, Rated PG 13 for Kai Tucker and Donut being themselves, RvB Secret Santa, Secret Santa, Self-Doubt, canon compliant language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-27
Updated: 2018-12-27
Packaged: 2019-09-28 10:33:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 22,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17181323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CC_Writes/pseuds/CC_Writes
Summary: Secret Santa gift for Finerafin!They requested something sweet and fluffy with some Logrimmons! So have some nonspecific winter holiday gift giving, with Simmons fretting in classic fashion if his gifts will be good enough or not!





	The one where Simmons has a gift crisis

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Finerafin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Finerafin/gifts).



> Gift for Finerafin! For the RvB Secret Santa event! :D Hope you like it! I told myself it would be short but ended up writing a whopper!

 

 

 

Simmons sighed for the third time in the last five minutes.  
  
"That's four times you've sighed now."  
  
Four times.  
  
"Sorry..." the redhead mumbled, plopping face down into his pillow.  
  
"Something's bothering you." It wasn't a question. Locus- Sam (Ortiz?) had a habit of making statements instead of questions a lot.  
  
Simmons turned his head enough to look over at the former mercenary. He was sitting at the room's lone desk doing a maintenance check on his sniper rifle. Normally the cyborg would protest because he wasn't doing that in the workroom, but Locus was a private kind of guy, and it made sense he'd want to do it in the privacy of their room and not where just anyone could waltz in and try to "help" like Sarge, Carolina, Washington, and (shockingly) Tucker. _Everyone_ thinks they're a gun expert when it's not their gun...

  
 Yeah and also, _their_ room. Simmons thought he'd freaked out when he and Grif had finally admitted that they maybe, kind of, sort of, loved the crap out of each other and had finally made it official and started sleeping it the same room. Never in a million years would he have thought that this relationship, which he was still terrified he didn't deserve, would expand to include Locus of all people! Simmons had never even thought about a polyamorous relationship before, mostly because he was certain that given how shit he was at a two-person relationship, he would do even worse with more! But… somehow, he… did it?  
  
Okay so maybe it wasn't that easy. Maybe it had started with Locus being almost forcibly invited to be part of their little band of misfits. Maybe Simmons had noticed Grif spending lot of time with Locus and maybe he'd immediately started having anxiety over it because as cool as maybe Simmons was (and he really really wasn't, no matter how much he tried to own it...) Locus was so much cooler and smarter and handsome and a super soldier and- and maybe he'd gotten depressed about it and maybe kind of jealous. Maybe Grif had noticed and maybe they'd had a fight about it. Maybe Locus had noticed that and tried to give them all space which only made Grif more upset which made Simmons more upset. Then, maybe, Simmons had been by himself at the shooting range trying to blow off steam, and maybe his aim was suffering because of his stress crying and maybe that was when Locus had tried to help him. And, maybe, after that Simmons had started noticing all the nice things he tried to do, how organized he was, how many small moments of vulnerability Locus had which Simmons picked up on because they were so much like his own... And maybe... he and Grif had finally sat down and talked. _Really_ talked. And maybe... Maybe, they had talked to Locus and discovered that... Maybe... He liked them, too...  
  
"Simmons?"  
  
The redhead jumped, blushing when he realized he'd been staring, "Oh, uh... No, it's nothing."  
  
Locus put down the part he'd been examining, "It's not ‘nothing’."  
  
"It's stupid," Simmons whined into the pillow again.  
  
"Whatever it is," Locus chided in that quiet but firm way he did, "it isn't stupid. Even the smallest problem can cause a well-built machine to break down, so no matter the severity it's still important." He paused, and, when Simmons peeked out of the corner of his eye, he could see a faint trace of red against the dark skin of his cheeks, "or so I've been told..."

"Y-yeah," Simmons agreed, his own face warming up, "well..." he fidgeted, sock covered feet rubbing against each other and the blanket covering the bed in turn. "I'm stuck on, um... Gift ideas."

 

He turned hesitantly when he didn't hear the expected "Oh, just that? That's not a big deal!" To his surprise Locus made a "please continue" gesture, the broad man's attention fully on him. Simmons pushed himself up, moving to sit properly on the edge of the bed instead of sprawled across it. He still couldn't help biting his lip and fussing with his hands self-consciously though, "It’s that time of year, you know? Most people nowadays aren't really religious anymore but almost everyone still has some kind of winter based gift exchange... thing. Decorations, parties, big meals and um gifts..."  
  
Locus nodded, "And you can't decide what to get?"  
  
"For anyone," Simmons confirmed. "I just can't seem to think of anything."  
  
Locus hummed, "I don't think that's an unusual problem. There are all kinds of practical things you can get that anyone can use. Like coffee mugs, I'm fairly certain that everyone here drinks an unholy amount of coffee."  
  
Simmons looked at him flatly.  
  
"I am including myself."  
  
The cyborg laughed a little at that before his anxiety took over again, "It's not that simple. I could do something like that, it might even be useful and practical, but what does it say? I do want it to be something useful, but it has to mean something too!" He flushed a bit in embarrassment at his outburst, eyes falling to his lap. "Does that make sense...?"  
  
"It does," Locus replied with surprising gentleness. "So it's an issue of feeling like you don't know them well enough to give them something that shows how well you know them and thus how much they mean to you?"  
  
Simmons nodded, head down, face hidden.  
  
"And if it isn't something like that, you feel like it would reduce your personal value?"  
  
Simmons nodded again, tears prickling at the corner of his human eye.  
  
There was a shuffle and creak of Locus standing up. A moment later, a warm hand settled with a kind of awkward gentleness against his head, and Simmons found himself leaning against the warm expanse of Locus' stomach that was now level with his head.  
  
"Don't feel foolish," the muscular man rumbled. "many people feel that way at times." A thumb rubbed softly against his hair, "I... Myself included."

  
Simmons looked up, taking in the still surreal self-conscious expression his boyfriend wore. It was hard to believe sometimes, that someone who seemed so unshakable, so stoic and powerful, could have the same anxious feelings he did. But, it was true wasn't it? It was what lead to Felix being able to use and hurt him as long as he had. Grif, too, worried and fretted just as much. He hid it well, but Simmons had learned to spot it after so long...  
  
He wrapped his arms around Locus' middle. Damn... He really did love them, didn't he?  
  
Just meant he really had to get something to show it!  
  
"Would it help if I told you what I wanted?" The former Mercenary teased, his tone hadn't changed much, but Simmons was picking up on the difference easier and easier now.  
  
"Don't you dare!" the redhead glared daggers up at him, and he absolutely did not pout.  
  
Locus laughed, actually laughed, at him, "May I make a suggestion then?"  
  
"Possibly..."  
  
"Write down what you know about everyone."  
  
Simmons blinked at him, pulling back, "Huh?"  
  
"Likes, dislikes, habits, hobbies. Things like that," Locus shrugged, cheeks darkening. "It's a technique I use when I have a particularly challenging mission. You start seeing patterns, things fall into place, and it's easier to make a sound plan..."  
  
"Sam, you're a genius!" Simmons squeaked, hopping to his feet suddenly, almost knocking Locus over in his sudden theft of what little space there had been between the two of them.  
  
It was Locus' turn to blink, "No, not really..."  
  
Simmons grinned, suddenly tossing his arms around his shoulders and kissing the bulky man. Almost as sudden he realized what he'd done and pulled back, "Sorry, I didn't even ask, I-"  
  
"You're fine," Locus chided, he smiled fondly, pulling the redhead back for another kiss. A hesitant and gentle thing.  
  
Both their faces were flushed when they parted.  
  
"Take a breather," Locus instructed. "Go find Grif, I think he was ’helping’ Donut in the kitchen, with whatever it is he's baking." Ah, so stealing then. "You might need to save your teammate."  
  
Simmons chuckled, "Probably. Baked stuff is about all Donut can make without setting everything on fire." Reluctantly, he disengaged from the other man. "Donut’s your teammate, too, now, you know."  
  
"I- yes, I suppose he is isn't he?"  
  
"You're allowed to be there, too... With us...and Grif and me..."  
  
Locus' gaze avoided his for a moment before returning with more determination than before, "I'll join you," he decided. "As soon as I note where I was and put this back together."  
  
That was acceptable.

 

"Okay."

 

* * *

 

         So, Simmons will be the first to admit that he is not religious. He's too logical and probably too bitter to be able to blindly believe in a thing that can't be proven... It's a stance that he's maybe been too vocal about in the past, after all, his point of view isn't even remotely uncommon, but he does like the idea of a winter holiday. This is important to mention only because Red Team and Blue Team (now The Reds and Blues + Others™) have never specifically subscribed to anything other than the notion of "dude its winter which means it's time to decorate shit, try to out eat and out drink each other, and get some fucking swag!" As such they've decked out their new... Base? Is this a base? Probably a base... With all kinds of winter shit.  
  
They let Donut run wild, with some exceptions, so there's a lot of branches from pine trees and lights and fake snow and fake cranberries, (no real ones, they learned year one that Grif would eat those and also the popcorn strings so none of those either) cinnamon sticks, too, so everything smells kind of amazing. There's also a Menorah at Caboose's insistence in memory of Church, and, though Carolina isn't practicing, she does seem to appreciate it. At least Simmons is pretty sure he's seen her looking at it with a kind of bittersweet fondness sometimes. They're probably all wrong about the days, too, its closer to New Years than anything else. But that's oddly them, isn't it? It's comforting in a weird way.  
  
  
         Simmons was making his way to the common area when he spotted Grif waiting in the doorway. Everyone else had probably already gathered in there so they could get to opening gifts, (He wasn’t nervous! Not at all!!) so he was kind of surprised to see his boyfriend standing there.  
  
"Hey," Grif greeted him casually, not making any move to leave the doorway, so Simmons couldn't go by.  
  
"Hey," the cyborg replied, a moment of silence passed between them. "Is, uh, something wrong?"  
  
Grif shoved his hands in his hoodie pockets and huffed, "No." … but he didn't move.  
  
Wait, was he, pouting?  
  
"Um," Simmons tried awkwardly. Okay… What was he missing? Grif was bothered by something? No, more like embarrassed. God, why did they have to be so shit at talking about emotional things?!  
  
Grif looked up for the smallest second before jerking his eyes away.  
  
Simmons followed where he was looking.  
  
Oh! Ooooooh...  
  
Yeah um, so... They had reigned Donut in on a lot of things, especially the red and blue bows, and ribbons, but when it came to the um... mistletoe... Yeah, it was kind of in every doorway and anything that could pass as a doorway.  
  
"Oh," Simmons squeaked softly, "Um... There's um..."  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Um... Well," Simmons coughed, "did you want- I mean, we should. Like it is there for a reason."  
  
Grif nodded, pout slowly turning to a more smarmy smile, "Right! And Donut would give us total hell if we ignored it."  
  
"Yeah. It's basically the law."  
  
Grif's hands slipped around Simmons' hips as he took a purposeful step forward into Simmons’ personal bubble. "Wouldn't wanna break the law," he murmured, leaning up.  
  
"Yeah, you'd never survive in prison," Simmons teased lowly, leaning down.  
  
The kiss was a slow and tender thing which the two of them still had trouble doing or asking for. Far too long repressing affections. The addition of Locus actually helped them be a little more open about things, or try to be anyway. Locus was surprisingly gentle and surprisingly skittish so if they weren’t willing to at least try, it would all fall apart. Speaking of...  
  
"Did you catch Locus under here too?" Simmons teased, once they'd parted.  
  
"No..." Grif pointedly huffed, "he snuck past me. The jackass."  
  
Simmons stifled a laugh, trying to reign in his blush as he said, "We'll just have to team up then. I'm sure Donut wouldn't mind if we stole a sprig or two to... Oh, let’s say, hang it over our bed?"  
  
God, he loved the mischievous and practically evil grin that spread across Grif's face.  
  
"Come on," the heavyset man gave Simmons' arm a pointed tug towards the common area, "Everyone's waiting for us so we can open up gifts and shit. Don't know about you but I want some swag. Also, Donut won't start dinner, or let me near the deserts, until we open everything."

 

* * *

 

  
         True to what Grif said, everyone was already gathered in the slightly too small space, made even smaller by the assortment of wrapped items and winter decor. The Reds Blues and various companions had done their best to fit themselves on and around the furniture available. Sarge was in the easy chair that he'd declared the property of Red Team the day it had arrived, though surprise surprise, he was the only one allowed to sit in it. Caboose was seated on the rug a little bit away and in front, sorting and resorting the stack of oddly shaped gifts that he would be presumably handing out. Next to him was one of the larger couches, occupied by the rest of Blue Team, Tucker was closest followed by Wash with Carolina (Blue in issues, Red in attitude, or so claimed Sarge). Beside them was Kai, seated on one of those rolly cushion things that could be used as a seat or foot rest. Ottoman? Ottoman. Well, "seated" wasn't the right world, she was lounging, partially dropped over the arm of the aforementioned couch, seemingly trying to flirt with all its occupants simultaneously, to the amusement of some (Carolina), mild distress from others (Wash), and strangely dense and fumbling attempts at reciprocation from the remainder (Tucker). Lopez was there which was a bit of a surprise if Simmons was honest. He was standing behind the others, leaning against the wall. The cyborg doubted that the robot had any gifts to give, but it was oddly nice to see him there even if he did kind of look like he didn't want to be there. Past that, semi on the other end of the room was a smaller sofa (or as Donut delighted in calling it, the “love seat”) was Locus, seated somewhat stiffly in the middle, clearly waiting for the two of them. Lastly was Donut, who'd dragged a chair out from the kitchen and thrown a pillow on the seat. He'd positioned it to face the rest of the room and was sitting with one leg crossed over the other holding a glass of eggnog in one hand the way an irritated mother-in-law might hold one of wine.  
  
"Well, well!" the chipper man chided, sounding mildly murderous despite the lit in his voice. "Look who finally decided to show up!"  
  
Grif huffed but didn't say anything, all but strutting to plop down on the side of Locus closest to his sister, leaving Simmons to sheepishly scamper to the other side with a hurried apology, flanked by calls from the others: demanding to begin the event or just jokes at his and Grif's expense.  
  
"Here," Locus said quietly when the other men sat down, passing something to each of them. Simmons found a warm mug pressed into his hands. "Coffee, cream, one sugar," the ex-mercenary told him. Turning, Locus eyed Grif, "Coffee, 3 sugars, heavy cream, and a packet of hot cocoa mix.”  
  
Simmons snorted quietly into his mug as Grif crooned in a playfully mocking voice, "Aww, its like you know me!"  
  
"Enough delays!" Sarge bellowed. "I have important battle plans to work on! I only agreed to this because it's tradition! And everyone knows tradition is good for discipline! And moral."  
  
"You just want your presents," Tucker snarked, "and so do I! Bring on the loot!"  
  
"Hell yeah!" Kai cheered, kicking the floor so her seat spun around, joining in on Tucker's chant of "loot loot loot loot loot!"  
  
"Now now!" Donut called above the rabble, tapping his glass with a spoon summoned from god knew where. "I'm sure everyone is well prepped and ready to receive whatever sizable gifts that are waiting for you!" Everyone groaned, save for Kai, who raised an intrigued eyebrow. "But first we have to lay the ground rules! We don't want anyone being left unsatisfied!" The faux blonde cleared his throat dramatically and announced, "Therefore! We will go person by person and everyone will give them their gifts! That way we won't have any silly measuring contests for who is the best gift giver!" Undeterred by the rumbled of voices both for and against this plan as the group gathered up each of their stacks of gifts to give, Donut produced a glittery Santa hat (again from god knows where) and reached in to pull out a scrap of paper, "First up _iiiiiiiiis!_ " he paused for an imaginary drum roll which remained as such.  
  
Simmons' palms started to sweat as he tried not to crush the primly wrapped packages he cradled in his lap.

 

* * *

 

 

"Why it’s me!" Donut crooned, waving the little paper with his name around.

  
Tucker snorted, "Of course you're first."  
  
"Lavernius!" Donut gasped in mock affront, throwing a hand dramatically to his chest, "Are you suggesting that I rigged the draw?"  
  
Tucker gave him a blank look for a few hard seconds then, without missing a beat, chucked a present at him. Looked like Tucker had wrapped all of his in-- was that _newspaper!?_ Well that was tacky, but also where did he even get newspaper? There hadn't been printed news in centuries at least! What lengths had he gone to to look like he didn't care? ...or did that make it more obvious that he did care?  
  
Maybe he was overthinking this.  
  
"Ooo!" Donut trilled in delighted surprise, "Looks like good things do come in small packages!"  
  
"What's that supposed to-"

 

"Look everyone!" the lightish-red soldier cried, holding up the bit of metal and sparkling rocks.  
  
"Uh, is that a _tiara_ ?" Carolina asked, voice threatening to break into giggles. The other Reds and Blues smothered their own laughs because that was the last thing anyone had expected.  
  
"It is!" the faux blonde replied gleefully, pushing back his artfully tousled hair as he put said tiara on. "Thank you Lavernius!"  
  
Tucker's face scrunched up at the use of his first name, "Just thought of the absolute campiest thing I could while still calling myself straight." he retorted. Donut childishly stuck his tongue out at him.  
  
"Was the Sangheili who fathered Tucker's son, not a male?" Locus asked Grif in the least subtle

whisper ever (...of all time).  
  
Tucker balked at the heavily muscled ex-mercenary, then flopped back on the couch, pouting petulantly at having lost this particular verbal spat. To be honest, it's not like Locus was wrong.  
  
“Its okay Tucker,” Grif cooed, “we all go through denial.”  
  
Tucker flipped him off, “You’d know! Took you, what- ten years? Longer?”

 

"Hey now," Wash chided gently, "Let's not throw stones-"

 

"We're throwing stones!?" Sarge interrupted. "I knew it was too good to be true! You can never trust a Blue! Pretending to come together in the spirit of the colder months only to try and bludgeon us with rocks! Diabolical! But also foolish! Simmons! Get my rock loaded rock-it-launcher!"  
  
The redhead buried his burning face in his hands, whining in muffled mortification. Locus, patted him reassuringly on the back, stifling a chuckle. Grif half flopped over the reformed mercenary so he could reach his first boyfriend and distract him by being a nuisance.  
  
"That's not what he means, you crazy old fart!" the Hawaiian snapped at his former (or possibly still? Who even knew) C.O.  
  
"What was that!?"  
  
"Crazy old fart, _sir_ ."  
  
"That's what I thought..."  
  
"Sarge!" Donut piped up, saving the kind of party, gift...thing, they were doing, "Why don't you go next?"  
  
"Be glad to!" Sarge preened. "Caboose! Get our haul!"

  
         "Aye aye Captain Sargent-Sargey- McSargeSon!" Caboose chattered gleefully, stretching back across the floor like a child and after a long moment of grumbling and whining that he couldn't quite reach, the bulky Blue returned with a somewhat haphazardly wrapped parcel. The paper was white and covered in drawings, surprisingly well-done ones actually, depicting all kinds of random things: horses, butterflies, stars... bubbles… croissants? And in the middle a bright pink figure that was clearly Donut.  
  
"Caboose?" Washington ventured. "Its Sarge's turn. You can go after him."  
  
Sarge snorted, "Leave it to a Blue to not know what his subordinates are doing at all times." He took the package from Caboose and gave the younger man a clap on the back. "Caboose and I formed a joint operation! Who better to know the mind of a Blue than a Blue?!"  
  
"Yes, that is me!" Caboose agreed cheerfully. "I helped to make the presents! I held things! And I made all of the papers to wrap them in. Yeah, uh, it is pretty cool. Pretty impressive. Yup..."  
  
"Shocking amount of competence," Sarge agreed sagely, passing the gift to Donut, who carefully began to unwrap it. It was probably a good idea to preserve Caboose's drawings after all.  
  
"Ooo!" Donut squealed with glee. "It’s a scarf!" He held it up for everyone to see. It was pink, a couple shades of it actually, it didn't seem to be entirely on purpose? A bit like they'd run out of yarn and the second skein hadn't quite matched? There another shade near the ends and scattered in random lines along the length of it, silver and sparkly. "Extra long and extra wide! How did you know I liked them like this?" he tittered, wrapping the anaconda-like thing about him.  
  
The Red leader shrugged in a manner of a person now mostly numb to Donut's manner of speech, "Just had a feeling."  
  
"Well I love it!" the theatrical blonde replied, snuggling into the coils of the ridiculously long thing. "It's so cozy!"  
  
"Huh, have to say I did not expect you to be able to knit..." Tucker said abruptly, breaking free of his shock.  
  
Sarge snorted on a laugh, "Just like a Blue... Knitting and Crochet are just knot tying, boy! What soldier doesn't know how to make a proper knot?"  
  
“Kinky!” Kai giggled.  
  
“Hush ya harlot!” Sarge barked back, scowling when Kai stuck her tongue out at him.  
  
"Well, I think we can all agree that it was very, uh, nice of you to let Caboose help you to make gifts for everyone," Washington said.  
  
"I held the yarn," Caboose crowed "in a big circle like this!" He held his hands apart as an example. "Captain Commander Sarge man showed me how to use a knitting needle to lo- lop? Land? Levitate!"  
  
"Lobotomize!" Sarge corrected.  
  
"Yes! Laboratory, an orange!"  
  
"That's, uh..." Washington was taken aback. "Why don't we, um, refrain from doing things like that without my permission? Right, Carolina?" He looked to his friend for help, deflating when he noticed the intense look on her face. Seemed after hearing the words "what soldier [can't]" the former Freelancer was trying to decide if it was worth trying to prove she was the best knitter or maybe the process by which one could weaponize knitting needles.  


          "Why don't I go next?" Washington ventured nervously, reaching for an almost generically wrapped package, colorful snow themed print, white bow, name tag, and passing it to Donut.  
  
"Hefty," the faux blonde purred., "Must be good! It has some weight to it!" He grabbed the colorful paper and ripped it off in one quick tug. "Ooo! Scented candles!" he cried gleefully, holding the box up to be seen.  
  
"Flameless!" Washington quickly corrected fearfully, spurred on by the numerous withering glares that had snapped his way. "You put the wax core inside and it warms it up, there's even a light up flame on top that you can set to any color you want!"  
  
Donut's eyes sparkled at that and he grinned at his gift, "Vanilla frosting, cinnamon buns, birthday cake... Everything is going to smell absolutely scrumptious! Thaaaaaaaank yoooou, Agent Washington!"

  
  
         Grif groaned, "Getting too sappy. My turn. Heads up, Pinky!" He leisurely tossed Donut his gift. It was wrapped in- no, not wrapped, couldn't even pretend with this one. The gift was in a brown paper bag, end folded over and taped in place,  with "DONUT" written on it in black marker. Simmons rolled his eyes, lazy as always... Well, at least he'd _concealed_ it, guess that was something.  
  
"Bonbons!" Donut shrieked in delight a second later, clutching the surprisingly sizable box to his chest.  
  
"Cherry filled," Grif said which garnered a new squeal of joy and plethora of thanks from their teammate. Lounging back into the cushions he nudged Locus with his elbow, "Your turn."  


         Locus gave a disapproving look at the prod but said nothing. In all honesty,  Grif and Simmons were probably the only people in the whole universe who could get away with doing that. Was a little thrilling if he were honest. Locus fished around through his stack of gifts and pulled out the one meant for Donut. They were all wrapped in plane brown packing paper, tied with simple red or blue ribbon, with a tag denoting the receiver. All pristine, cleanly folded, neat, clean, professional. Was it weird that Simmons actually really liked that? Like he loved Grif, messiness and all, it was him and it was in its own way, attractive, but Locus inversely was organized and by the book, and that was also just... really hot. Simmons assumed the package was too fragile to toss because he watched the muscular man actually get up to go hand the package to Donut. The redhead bit his lip to keep from smiling stupidly and, hopefully, keep his face from turning red again.  
  
He must have failed because he caught sight of Grif, who turned his head enough for Simmons to notice, grinning mischievously. His gaze flicked from Simmons to Locus and wiggled his eyebrows. Simmons felt heat start to rise to his cheeks.  
  
Then, as if on cue, Kai's face slid into view just past her brother's, like a flirt based bloodhound, silently mouthing, "That booty though."  
  
Simmons wanted to evaporate.

If Locus noticed when he sat back down he gave no direct indication, though he did put his arms over the back of the couch, a distant mimicry of putting his arms around the two of them. That was pretty public a display for any of them… Not that Simmons didn’t like it! He actually really did. He just felt… torn about it. He wished that he didn’t care so much about being laughed at or really getting attention of any kind directed at him, over-affectionate displays like this. Maybe in time, they could do it? He hoped so...  
  
Thankfully no one had noticed, too distracted by Donut's delight over what had been revealed as a bottle of rose-colored wine. He was reading off all the things it had apparently been made with: raspberries, strawberries, blended into white wine to make it sweeter. Simmons didn't know a whole lot about wine, but that sounded good? Right?  


         Carolina went next, presenting Donut with her gift. She'd wrapped hers in similar paper to Washington's, suggesting that they'd probably bought them at the same time? All of her wrapped gifts were...interesting? The paper was a bit lumpy in places, folded a little funny, maybe too much tape here or there. It was, and, he'd never say this out loud mind you because then he would be murdered, but it was kind of cute? Like, to know that Carolina had flaws made her seem more human and to see how she'd done this part by herself even though it was obviously not a thing she had a ton of experience doing? That was a "vulnerable" (at least for Carolina) thing? It made him want to try and get to know her more, try to be friends, like how Grif had done. Hopefully she'd like his gift when it was her turn...  
  
Eyes on the present (pun not intended)! Carolina's gift to Donut was a pair of swim trunks. They were, in Simmons' opinion, perfectly hideous. Pastel pink with bright red tropical flowers and glittery gold leaves. Donut's fashion sense was always on the more garish side of things though, so it was probably no surprise that he showed clear joy at getting them.  
  
"I figured these would be useful for when it gets warm out again. You really liked swimming I noticed," Carolina said. "Now you have something to wear so you don't have to go starkers."  
  
Donut blinked, "Oh that wasn't because I didn't have trunks! See it's much better for your health to-"

 

"To wear swim trunks," Carolina cut him off, talking through the clenched teeth of her strained, cheerful, smile. "Because if you don't I'm going to shatter your pelvis with my boot."  
  
" _That's hot_ ," Kaikaina whispered.  
  
Donut blinked, "Ah. Yes. Well."  


         Grif, reached over Locus in a nonchalant manner, much to the man's minor annoyance, if the grunt meant anything, and poked the side of Simmons' head. "Dude," he hissed, "your turn. Go before she eats him."  
  
Crap! Right! Sure!  
  
"Uh, Donut?" Simmons started, reaching for a thin parcel, wrapped in simple, shiny, silver paper with a pink bow stuck to it. "This is for you," he pushed himself up and walked the couple of steps it took to reach Donut. "I know it's not very big but...."  
  
Donut recovered from his fright immediately and pounced upon the opportunity Simmons hadn't meant to give him, "It’s okay, Simmons! It's not the size of the gift! It's the way it’s used! The feelings behind it!"  
  
"Yeah, okay. Whatever you say Donut..." The redhead scurried back to his seat uncomfortably. He did not fail to notice, however, the way Grif was whispering to Locus or the way the more muscular man had a subtle blush on his normally stoic face.

 

Damn it, Grif! He was going to get them mocked forever if he kept this up!  
  
"OH, MY GOOOOOOOOOD!"  
  
Simmons was snapped back to reality by Donut's shriek and leaping across the room and threw his arms around Simmons’ neck he suddenly found himself (almost) with a lap filled with faux blonde as Donut squealed with joy.

 

Simmons screamed in the opposite of joy.

 

Grif yelled in offense, Locus yelled in surprise, Tucker yelled with the joy only he had for embarrassing things like this, Sarge yelled at Tucker, Caboose yelled for the sake of yelling, Carolina yelled at everyone, and Washington wept internally.

 

“What the hell did you get him!?” Grif demanded once he had pried Donut off of Simmons and things returned to as close to something normal as they ever got.

 

“Tickets to _Hamilton 7: In Space_ !” Donut glowed. “These are like impossible to get!”  
  
Simmons peeked out from the safe haven Locus had created with his arm after Donut had been removed, “I got them from President Kimball,” He ventured hesitantly. “She needed help organizing a bunch of information they recovered from before the civil war. It was a huge mess.”  
  
“There’s even two tickets!” Donut cooed. “I can take Doc! I need to apologize for exploding him off that building during the whole ‘god’ thing.”  
  
Grif choked on the air.  
  
“Uh, sure okay, Donut,” Simmons tried, who even knew what Donut was talking about like half the time, really? “Glad you like them.”

 

         “Oo! Oo!” Kai said, “If you’re bringing your guy friend, you’ll need this!” She tossed her gift, it was in a colorfully printed, and kind of clashing, gift bag. Most of her gifts were packed up like that actually.

 

Donut caught the little parcel easily and peeked inside, “Oh ho ho! Body glitter!”

 

“ _Edible_ body glitter,” Kai corrected with a devilish grin which Donut returned.

 

Oh dear god please move on to someone else before he died of mortification! Please!

 

* * *

 

  
“Sarge!”

 

The oldest Red leaned back in his chair with an expectant and slightly evil expression on his face. A sort of “now you have to shower **me** with gifts, whether you like it or not!”

 

         Not one to back down from a challenge, Carolina went first, passing Sarge a small but apparently heavy package.

 

Sarge's eyebrow raised as he opened it. He smiled in poorly hidden excitement, “Well well! Bit on the nose missy! But you certainly have an eye for quality!” He held up the box of shotgun shells, “I’ll make good use of these babies! Yes'sir!” Washington made a kind of abrupt sound that drew Sarge's attention. “Something the matter there, Blue?”

 

“No!” Washington protested, sheepishly he held out a box of his own, “Guess we uh- you know, great minds and all.”

 

Sarge narrowed his eyes at the former freelancer, holding up the new box of shotgun shells. “Now son,” he began slowly like he was talking to a child, or perhaps a rather stupid dog, “I’m not sayin’ this was a poor choice of gift on your part, but this _kind?_ Have ya never used a shotgun in your entire life!? You can't just stick any old ammo in ‘er! You gotta treat your girl right! It's not about the cost son, it's about the _quality!_ You put cheap sub-par ammunition in your gun, and you'll hurt her, boy!”

 

“Uh, I, uh,” Wash blinked, “I can exchange them?”

 

Sarge burst out into a hearty guffaw, “These’re fine! Just keeping you on your toes! I was serious about that quality part though! You need to pay more attention! Set a good example for your men!”

 

Wash blinked, “Uh, I’ll take that to heart?”

 

Beside him, Carolina stifled laughter against her closed fist.

 

Kaikaina leaned over to her brother whispering, “I’m not drunk right? Cuz I can't figure out if he’s being serious about the gun thing or if he’s trying to give the cop advice about chicks…”

 

“Might as well get this out of the way then,” Tucker groused, passing Sarge his gift which turned out to be, you guessed it, shotgun shells.

 

“See?” Sarge lectured. “You gotta set a good example for your men!”

 

Tucker rolled his eyes.

 

“Oh no! Were we supposed to get food for your friend?” Caboose piped up in mild distress. “Because I did not get that!”

 

“That's okay, Caboose,” Carolina assured him, “You just needed to get Sarge something you thought would make him happy. That's it.”

 

“Oh! Okay!” the large Blue said. “Then I will go last! Because I have a gift that made me happiest!”

 

“Okay, that’s…fine?” Carolina tried.

 

         “Very well,” Locus cut in, passing his gift to Sarge. “I’ll go then. This seemed like something you would enjoy.”

 

Sarge hummed his approval, unpacking a bottle of whiskey, the label promised “spice” so it probably had even more of a bite than normal. Yeah, Sarge would like that. He was the kind of person who demanded the strongest thing available, not because of the flavor or anything, but because he liked the challenge. At least this stuff would taste better.

 

         Simmons clutched his gift with shaky hands. God, could he not be nervous about this for one second? Just one?! He was sure Sarge would like this. So why was his brain insisting that it wasn't good enough?!

 

“I, uh,” he tried to explain while Sarge unwrapped it, “I know resources are limited! Ammo, targets, and stuff. So I thought you might like to have an unlimited enemy to fight. It has recreations of old wars, too. Ancient ones like World War 1 and recent ones like the attack on New Mombasa.”

 

“Weh-he-hell!” Sarge crowed, holding up the first case containing the first-person shooter game Simmons had bought, “See?! That's how you inspire your troops! Excellent job, Simmons!”

 

“Thank you, Sir!” the redhead replied automatically. Feeling a wave of relief that he’d chosen correctly.

 

“Kiss ass,” Grif drawled. Simmons kicked him or tried to. With Locus in the way, he just sort of whiffed the air around Grif’s shins.

 

         Donut's gift was a hat. Which would have been weirdly normal except that this was Donut so it wasn't just a hat, it was a bright red hat that said “Foxy Grandpa” in large white letters.

 

“Ha! Classic!” Sarge chuckled and put the hat on. Crossing his arms and sitting back with a smarmy grin.

 

         Kai went next: her gift came in a thin envelope. It was a flyer for a night club that had opened recently down on Chorus called “Ground Zero” (the dark humor of the planet’s residents was still present I see…) and one VIP pass. Sarge didn't seem too thrilled about it but promised he’d use it after Kai insisted.

 

“You, like, need to get out, dude! Meet a lady! Or a man! Or whatever, fuck. I don't judge! Take that crazy ass doctor lady! She’s like perfect for you!”

 

Sarge’s face turned a bit red and he growled out, “What about you?” he looked pointedly at Grif, “Got anything better than your sister?”

 

        “Psh,” Grif snorted. “See, I wasn't going to get you jack shit, but everyone and their mother would get on my ass so I got you this.” The heavyset man flicked a card across the room which the Red C.O snatched expertly out of the air.

 

With a humph Sarge tore the envelope open and took out the card. He peered at the cover and flipped it around to show it to the room, “An’ just what is this?”

 

Grif smirked, “It's you.”

 

“I gathered,” Sarge said flatly, “How’d it get there?”

 

“I drew it.”

 

“I see…” Sarge gestured to some wiggly lines, “and these are?”

 

“Stink lines,” Grif stated, “Cuz you smell.”

 

Sarge glared, but opened the card, looking inside. Immediately he snapped it shut, expression furious as he looked at Grif, then back to the card.

 

“What is it?” Washington asked nervously, anticipating murder.

 

“Yeah!” Tucker joined in, “What's in it?”

 

“Drawin’s”

 

“Oh oh!” Caboose said, “Drawings of what?”

 

Sarge, coughed uncomfortably, "Huh, its uh... Me having sexual relations with my shotgun... My shotgun having sexual relations with me... The two of us basking in the afterglow, I appear to be cryin' ..."

 

There was a long moment of silence before just about everyone in the room lost it. Carolina was laughing so hard Simmons thought he saw tears in the corners of her eyes. Tucker was curled over the arm of the couch gasping for air. Caboose giggled mostly because everyone else was. Kaikaina burst into a laughing fit so strong she toppled off her cushion perch with a soft thump and rolling, peels of laughter muffled by the carpet.

 

“Grif!” Simmons protested, “That was terrible! Not to mention you're not even being original! You stole that bit!”

 

Grif snorted, “I didn't steal shit. The game that short is from is over 500 years old, it's been public domain for forever.”

 

“Still unoriginal.” Simmons sulked. Looking at Sarge though… He seemed- well, he seemed _mad_ , obviously, but having known him as long as he had, Simmons thought he saw a bit of a wet glint in his eye and not quite so hard a frown, and he couldn't help but notice the careful way Sarge folded the homemade card back up and put it back in the envelope.

 

Huh…

 

         “My turn!” Caboose shouted when everyone had themselves under control again, “Here you go Mr. Sarge!” he passed Sarge a round package covered in red random shapes and doodles, along with a drawing of a figure in red armor.

 

With an uncharacteristic amount of care, Sarge pulled the paper off of what turned out to be a cardboard tube. Inside was a rolled-up sheet of paper, nearly poster size, and Sarge's face faltered a bit when he unfurled it.

 

Caboose made grabby hands and momentarily took the paper to hold it up for the room to see, “It's me! And Sarge! And we’re making the presents and here I am holding the string and there is Sarge holding the needles! Which is okay because I do not like needles. And that is us wrapping them! Sarge wrapping them… I taped myself to the ceiling by accident.” He handed the drawing back to Sarge, “I made this so you could remember the fun we had! Because I had lots of fun! ...Even when I stuck myself to the ceiling.”

 

“I…” Sarge choked out, his eyes brimming with happy tears. “Thank you, this is the nicest gift I’ve ever been given!”

 

“You’re welcome!” Caboose replied happily, grinning when Sarge reached over to muss his hair like a puppy.

 

         Simmons felt a little pang in his chest, wishing he could have made Sarge that happy.  He should have known that Locus and Grif would notice, he probably was glaringly obvious. Simmons felt a gentle touch to his leg and looked down to see Locus’ thumb covertly rubbing his knee in a comforting manner. When he looked up Locus wasn’t looking at him, but Grif was glancing worriedly in his direction. Simmons offered him a reassuring smile and took a deep breath. Yeah, he couldn’t make Sarge happy like that, but… You know? That was okay. Yeah. It really was.

 

* * *

 

 

“Next we have…” Donut rustled the hat for dramatic effect, “Washington!”

 

         “Oh oh-oh! Us first!” Caboose pleaded, waving one hand in the air and groping blindly for his gift with the other which Sarge nudged covertly to him with his foot.

 

Their gift was a long blue scarf. Man, the pains Sarge must have had making it that color… though he did put, well, it was either red stars or red snowflakes on it so maybe he’d made the best of it? Wash seemed pleased with it, looping it around his neck to prove it to Caboose who was insistent on it protecting the Blue leader. It was kind of sweet really.

 

         Donut was next, excitedly passing Washington the colorfully wrapped gift, “I think you’ll really appreciate these!” the faux blonde told the natural blonde. “I must confess I couldn't resist a good old pun!”

 

Washington peered at his gift in mild confusion, “Are these...towels?”

 

“Yes!” Donut replied in excitement, “They have your name embroidered on them!” There was a long pause. Donut blinked, “Don't… Don't you get it?”

 

“I… Like to think I do?”

 

Donut whined, “It's a ‘ _wash-cloth_ ’!”

 

“Oh. Oh!” Wash blurted, the joke finally sinking in. Beside him Carolina burst into giggles and Tucker rolled his eyes, nearby Caboose kicked his feet in near hysterical laughter.

 

         Carolina recovered and reached for a thin package beside her, “Okay, so. I can't take total credit for this one. Simmons and I teamed up. Mostly because he knew where to find it.”

 

Simmons flushed, “It’s not a big deal. I don't think it really counts. I did get some stuff to go with it though! But I mean, you’ll see in a second.” He was embarrassed to admit it, but he hadn't been able to think of anything good for Wash. A coffee mug? A day planner? All practical and useful, sure, but nothing really _personal_. Sadly when it came to that he didn't know too much. His own fault really, but Carolina coming to him for help had been a godsend.

 

Wash’s face lit up and an involuntary, “Aww,” slipped out, “‘Lina. She's beautiful!”

 

Carolina flashed Simmons a grin and a thumbs up while Washington held up the photo of the dark chocolate colored cat, so everyone could see. She was curled up in a little bed, reaching towards the viewer playfully, her bright blue eyes almost little slits as she’d just woken up. Beside her were a modest array of cat toys (which Simmons had purchased) and around her neck was a little blue collar with her name on it in white.

 

“Hartford,” Wash said quietly.

 

“Yeah,” Carolina said. “After, well, you know.” Simmons did not know, but Washington did, “The people looking after her are calling her ‘Heart’ for short.”

 

“That's really cute,” Wash chuckled, looking a bit misty-eyed.

 

“She's, um,” Simmons piped up, “she’s part of Chorus’ animal repopulation project. So she’ll be looked after by the caregivers and have a litter or two or more. After that she can come here if you want, ‘til then you can go visit whenever you’d like,” he shrugged. “With all the shenanigans we get into, I thought this would be best for her.”

 

“Washington is going to be a grandpa! And also a dad!” Caboose shouted. “Can we go visit your new baby? Please please please please please!?”

 

Washington smiled, “Sure, we can. Thank you, Carolina, Simmons. This is a really nice gift.”

 

         “Welp, guess I can add psychic to my list of amazing talents,” Tucker piped up, no small amount of smarm in his voice, as he passed a box to Washington.

 

“What...is this?” the Blue leader asked hesitantly, holding up a vest of some kind. It was camoprint, covered in pockets, it looked almost military grade. Except… except, it had, umm...was that a baby bottle strapped to the front?

 

“It's a tactical baby vest!” Tucker laughed, “You know since you’re team mom and all!”  
  
Washington narrowed his eyes and a wicked smile appeared on his face, “Oh? And does that mean you’ve admitted to being a child? Are you saying you’re a baby, Tucker?”

 

“What! No!” Tucker burst out in mild offense, “I’m all man! Ask any chick you know! They’ll tell you!”  
  
Kai snorted and Carolina pointedly turned away in amused repulsion, “Uh, no. No, we won’t,” she said trying not to laugh.

 

         When the resulting fit of giggles had finally been quieted down Washington was able to be given his remaining gifts. A bottle of Spiced Rum from Locus, a surprisingly thoughtful series of white noise audio files designed to help you sleep, from Grif, and a, uh... pair of handcuffs from Kai.

 

“Because you’re a cop.” She stated flatly when Wash held them up in question. At the looks she received, the younger Grif huffed indignantly, “It’s not always a sex thing you know! Sometimes it's a ‘Don’t you forget I know you’re a cop’ thing! Jeeze get your brains out of the gutter!”

 

* * *

 

 

  
“The next person to be _filled_ with our love is-!”

 

Everyone in the room collectively groaned.

 

“Lopez!”  
  
The groan gave way to an awkward silence. Several people silently (and covertly) glanced in the, thus far, silent robot’s direction. Uh oh… Looks like most people had forgotten… Well, to be fair, Simmons himself hadn’t exactly expected Lopez to even _be_ at this get-together. Like, he wasn’t particularly social and all he’d done and probably would continue to do until it was over, was to stand back against the wall behind everyone like a disapproving metal hawk.  
  
“Does anyone want to go first?” Donut asked.  
  
Across the room Carolina started to sweat, Washington risked a nervous glance at her. Simmons could practically _feel_ them calculating an escape plan.

 

         “Todos se olvidaron, ¿verdad?” (You all forgot, right?) Lopez droned from the other side of the room, despite a lack of inflection Simmons thought he sounded annoyed; he could pick out one or two words, thanks to his learning Esperanto, but not enough to get more than a vague idea of what Lopez was saying. “No me sorprende. Y, francamente, no quería ni esperaba nada, pero quiero que todos sepan que todavía apestan.” (I’m not surprised. And, frankly, I did not want or expect anything, but I want you all to know that you still suck.)

  
“Uh-” Simmons began softly. Oh he did not like the idea of going first but...

 

“Well okay! I’ll start us off then!” Donut cut him off. Not that anyone save for maybe Locus had heard Simmons’ near whisper. “Don’t worry Lopez! I’m sure everyone just has gift giving jitters!” The faux blonde got up and handed Lopez a box, pushing and pulling him into their circle, despite what were probably protests. Whatever it was Locus looked amused.

 

“Open it! Open it!” Donut encouraged.

 

With a begrudging mechanical sigh, Lopez did. He stopped, looking at the contents, silent.

 

“Well?” Donut pressed, “Show them what you got!”  
  
Lopez made a sound, like an old-fashioned modem going through an industrial wood chipper. Despite that the android did pull out the gift, showing it to the room.  
  
"What is that?" Kaikaina asked, squinting at the bottle. Her question was mirrored by the room's other occupants. Simmons didn't blame them, it wasn't terribly big, about the size of a soda can maybe? Looked fancy though. Made of glass maybe? Couldn't be a beverage, that wouldn't make sense. Neither would, like, perfume. Soap maybe...? But that looked like it was for humans. It wouldn't be any good for Lopez.  
  
Donut huffed, "You're supposed to hold it so they can see properly. Ah well, that's okay! I can just tell them! It's oil!"  
  
"Oil?" Simmons asked, "But that doesn't look like motor oil-"  
  
"Because it isn't silly!" Donut giggled, "It's massage oil."  
  
"But...why?" Simmons blurted, dumbfounded, as several of the room's occupants started to laugh.  
  
"For his joints!" Donut said matter of factly. "It’s really cold out and it's only going to get colder, and poor Lopez is going to be so stiff and tight! So I got him this to get him all loose and lubed up! It’s all natural and made with only the finest extracts. It’s top stuff!"  
  
Lopez couldn't use that though... It would wreak havoc on his electrical components. But he probably wouldn't get that through to Donut, and if he tried he'd probably wreck the rest of their party. "Uh, well... That's pretty thoughtful?" Simmons offered.  
  
"I know right?" Donut preened.  
  
“Eres un idiota tan denso.” (You're such a dense idiot.)  
  
"Aww thank you Lopez! That's such a sweet thing to say!"  


         "Bah, enough mushy stuff!" Sarge barked out. "Unlike the rest of this rabble Caboose and I actually remembered to get a gift for the most important member of Red Team! After myself of course! And my shotgun."  
  
"But Sarge," Simmons protested, "I'm sure other people have gifts, not to mention Donut just-"  
  
"Details!" Sarge shooed him off, "Caboose! Gift him!"  
  
"Gifting!" Caboose cried, tossing a packet across the room, which Lopez caught with an alarmed slew of what were probably curse words.  
  
Its contents was a chunky overly large sweater. It was red, obviously, and had a kind of cartoony box robot on the chest. “...No me enfrío. Ya sabes, ¿verdad?” (...I don't get cold. You do know that right?) Lopez stated, “Puedo sobrevivir en el vacío del espacio.” (I can survive in the vacuum of space.) He turned the garment around and back, “Supongo que debería reconocer el intento al menos.” (I suppose I should acknowledge the attempt at least.)  
  
"See! Lopez knows how to be grateful!" Sarge puffed his chest proudly.  
  
“Ni siquiera puedes entender lo que estoy diciendo, viejo senil. Estás inventando cosas como siempre lo haces.” (You can't even understand what I'm saying, senile old man. You're just making things up like you always do.)  
  
Sarge sniffed, "He's so sentimental."  
  
"Anyone else!?" Donut chirped hopefully.  
  
"I-" Simmons tried again but was cut off by Grif groaning dramatically.  
  
"Yeah, yeah I have something," the heavy man hauled himself up to sit properly. "It's not, like, in a box or anything, but you better appreciate this!" Grif cleared his throat dramatically, “Entonces, sé que no siempre somos amables contigo y mierda. Eso es porque eres un gilipollas, pero el resto de nosotros también somos gilipollas, así que tampoco somos amables con los demás. Así es como sabes que eres familia. Porque somos los únicos que apoyaremos tu mierda.”(So, I know we're not always nice to you and shit. That's because you're an asshole, but, the rest of us are assholes, too, so we're not nice to each other either. That's how you know you're family. Cuz we're the only ones who'll put up with your crap.)  
  
Lopez was silent for a long few seconds, as everyone else (except for Locus) stared at Grif. “...Gracias,” (...Thank you.) Lopez finally said.  
  
"Oh my gosh, bro!" Kai trilled. "I didn't know you spoke Spanish!"  
  
"I don't!" Grif growled. "I just memorized that bit! And either I wished him a ‘happy holiday’ or said something really rude about his mom. Frankly, I don't care, he should be glad I even bothered to try!"

 

“ _Suuuure,_ ” Kai teased with a knowing smile. Huh, need to ask her about what that meant later. Or Maybe Locus.? Yeah, Locus was safer.  
  
"Well, I think it was a lovely attempt, Dexter!" Donut cooed. "Even if you did say those horribly unpleasant things about Lopez's mother!" Simmons heard Locus snort softly under his breath.  
  
"Just like Grif!" Sarge groused. "Can't even bother to half-ass something!"  
  
"You wanna start some shit old man?!" Kai challenged from her seat.  


         "I have a gift too!" Simmons blurted out, probably too loud given the way everyone stared at him. "I um..." he faltered, holding out the box, silver wrapped like the others, a copper bow identifying its intended recipient.

 

Lopez took it, and Simmons tried not to fret as he unwrapped the cleaning kit it held. Long ago, in Blood Gulch, he'd discovered that Lopez had been removing his false human face bit by bit. Why, Simmons didn't know, like most things that were clearly personal and serious, he never asked, but, what he did know was that the metal endoskeleton wasn't designed to be exposed without the fake skin and glass eyes to protect it. If it wasn't properly cared for the internal parts could corrode or be gummed up with dust, dirt, and grit. You needed the right tools for that, small and delicate so as not to scratch important parts and cleaners that wouldn't eat away at protective coatings or fry exposed parts.  
  
"Everything you need should be in there," he told Lopez. "I'm sure you won't need my help, but, if you do just let me know! I've cleaned out tons of computers before and, um, my prosthesis, so I'm pretty good at it!"  
  
Lopez eyed him silently for a moment, “Gracias. Esto es sorprendentemente reflexivo y sorprendentemente competente. Honestamente esperaba que explotara. Me alegro de que no lo hizo” (Thank you. This is surprisingly thoughtful and shockingly competent. Honestly I was expecting it to explode. I'm glad it did not.)  
  
Okay! Was that good? It sounded maybe good? He'd heard the word "explode" though... Simmons risked a look to Locus who flashed him a reassuring smile, so it was good then!

 

* * *

 

“Next up iiiiis Caboose!”

 

“Yes, hello!”

 

“Hello, Caboose,” Donut chuckled, passing him a gift, like his others it was wrapped in a colorful floral paper (this one blue) with a bow made of a mass of glittery ribbons, “This is for you!”

 

Caboose gasped dramatically, “Thank you, Captain Crumpet!” he gasped again, even louder a moment later. “Oh my gosh! It. Is. A. Bunny!” The overly buff Blue hugged the large, exceedingly fluffy, white, stuffed rabbit, “Thank you! He’s so fluffy! I will name him Church! No! I will name **her** Thomas!”

 

         “That's uh… Unconventional?” Washington chuckled, passing Caboose a package, “I hope you like this.” Oh, he looked a bit uncertain, “This one is from me and Tucker, actually.”

 

Tucker nodded, “Yeah, it was the best thing we could think of because the hell if I’m giving you something you could stab yourself with.” the normally brash Blue looked kind of solemn suddenly, shifting a bit in his seat, “ Just, like, don't get sad, okay?”

 

Curiously, Caboose pulled the paper off what turned out to be a black faux leather book, with “Blue Team Memories” on the front. Oh! It was a photo album?

 

Silently the large Blue opened the book to look inside, “Oh,” he said softly, “these are pictures of us?”

 

Tucker nodded, “Yeah, we went through all the pictures and videos our helm cams recorded and picked out all the best ones. So…”

 

“These are pictures of Church?”

 

“Yeah,” Tucker said quietly, with silent encouragement from Wash. “Church is in them. There’s a whole section just for him.”

 

Caboose looked at the book for a long moment, running his hand over some of the pictures. Finally he looked up and offered his teammates a rare soft smile, “Thank you Tucker. Thank you Washington. This is… It is a very nice present. I like it very much. Now I have pictures of everyone and also Church. So. I can look at them and remember the fun we had in Blood Gulch.” He grinned. “Yes. This is a very nice present!”

 

         “Well, this probably isn't quite as cool as all that mushy Blue Team stuff,” Grif mused from where he sat. “But Sis and I did a joint gift, too.”

 

At that prompting, Kaikaina got up from her seat to hand Caboose the large box that contained their gift, “Here you go big guy!” Kai said in a friendly tone. “Think you’ll like this shit!”

 

Reluctantly parting with the photo album (tucking it safely beside him) Caboose opened the box. He grinned broadly when he saw what was inside, tilting it so everyone could see, “Look! Look! It's all fancy art things!” Inside was a stack of supplies: crayons, colored pencils, paint and brushes, and under it all at least two notebooks or pads of paper, Simmons couldn't tell from where he sat, “I am going to draw so many things!”

 

“Nice,” Kai grinned, casually bumping her brother's fist, “Knew this was a good call!”

 

         Sarge harrumphed, reaching to grab a package, “Well I’m not about to be outdone by a Grif! Let alone two!” He handed the gift to Caboose, “Here ya’ go! Should fit, made it roomy, just in case!”

 

Caboose made a delighted sound as he pulled a sweater out of the box. It was exceptionally large and made of a fluffy _bright_ red yarn with “Red at Heart” across the chest in a smoother white. “Can I wear it over my armor?” he asked in excitement.

 

“Should be able to!” Sarge replied, crossing his armed and leaning back in his chair, a pleased smile on his face.

 

“Caboose isn't a Red!” Tucker protested. “Besides! I told you guys like a thousand times! There never were any teams!”

 

“Shows what you know!” Sarge shot back.

 

“Enough!” Carolina interrupted, “It doesn't matter. Caboose likes it, that's what's important.” Pleased with putting the squabbling men in their place, she passed her own gift to the bigger Blue.

 

It turned out to be a set of video games, something Caboose was delighted by. Simmons couldn't help but notice that they were competitive games though and that Carolina was careful to mention how she’d be down to play them with Caboose at any time. Well, maybe he wasn't the only one, Caboose had a rare competitive glint in his eye, so Carolina had chosen well.

 

         Locus went next and for a moment there was a tense silence as the rest of the room’s occupants waited in collective fear at the idea of Caboose getting alcohol. They needn't have worried, what was actually inside was an assortment of different kinds of hot chocolate mixes. A silent collective sigh of relief left the party goers. Thank god, they didn't need to see Caboose drunk. The destruction would be inconceivable!

 

         Simmons gave his gift last, as he had been for the most part during the party. When it came to things like this he never felt confident going first, so the later, the better. His gift for Caboose was a series of books, all printed on paper instead of digital, Simmons’d always liked the novelty of a paper book. Something nice about the physical weight of them, the texture of the paper, and that old book smell. He’d found them comforting as a kid so he was hoping Caboose might feel the same. Simmons had included some of the books and anthologies that Caboose had borrowed from him, which included the book ‘Frankenstein’, among others. Dense as he could be sometimes, Caboose really had a high aptitude for reading comprehension and would gladly talk about what he’d thought of the stories to those who listened.

 

Simmons wasn't sure when exactly he’d befriended the big Blue but he had, and it felt really good when Caboose burst out with a loud, “Thank you!”  and smiled when he realized that these new copies of these stories were all his. “You’ll read some of these with me right?” he pleaded. “We can both do the voices!”  
  
“Sure thing, Caboose,” Simmons replied. “You just let me know when, okay?”

 

Caboose whooped happily and Simmons felt a fondness in his chest. Yeah, he wasn’t sure when he’d gotten a weird and kind of crazy little brother, but he found he didn’t mind that at all.

 

Not bad Simmons. Not bad.

 

* * *

 

  
"Tucker!"  
  
Oh boy. Yeah, this had been a hard one. Simmons tried not to panic as the Blue received what were probably far better gifts than the one he'd gotten.

  
         A well maintained pistol from Washington, with the declaration that Tucker couldn't keep relying on only his sword in combat. Tucker rolled his eyes and slid in a "bow chicka wow wow!" but still accepted the gift from him gladly. There was a hoodie from Grif with what was probably a favorite band of Tucker's on it if his delighted "Hell yeah!" meant anything. Carolina gave him a CD, possibly from the same band, and casually clocking him with a pillow when he wiggled his brow at her.  
  
Locus' gift was a bottle of rather nice wine with a note reading "for special occasions" stuck to it.  
  
"Did you just get everyone booze?" Grif grinned, playfully ribbing their boyfriend.  
  
"Now Grif," Locus replied, a small ghost of a smile tugging at his lips, “You know full well that I gave Caboose hot chocolate. As for everyone else? Who’s to say?”

  
         Kai's gift, which she whipped at Tucker's head with a mischievous cackle turned out to be a bag of dick-shaped gummy candy. Tucker choked on a mix of laughter and horror at it as Washington struggled not to die of embarrassment by proxy as he tried to sooth Caboose's whine about not also getting some.  


        Caboose and Sarge's odd collaboration of knitted gifts continued with a sweater, an almost eye-searing teal with the words "suck it" knitted on the front in an equally bright primary red and what seemed to be a...uh...target, on the back.  Tucker awkwardly returned Caboose's delighted smile, "Uh... Thanks, Caboose, and Sarge. It's...nice?"  
  
"Thank you!" Caboose crowed, Sarge just crossed his arms and smirked.

  
         Donut's gift turned out to be surprisingly tame. Simmons had thought for sure that given Tucker's own propensity for innuendo it would be something scandalous. Nope, it was a collection of variously scented moisturizers. Though... Now that he thought of it, wasn't there, um, implications surrounding guys having lotion?  
  
"I wasn't sure what one you'd like the most so I got a nice sampler!" the pink solder gushed. "I remember how easily your skin dries out! You know, from that time in the desert? You're just soooo thirsty! And-"  
  
"Thank you!" Tucker cut him off with a shrill cry. "I think Simmons is the only one left!?"  
  
Simmons swallowed, yes of course he was, obviously, Lopez didn't have gifts to give so... Hesitantly Simmons passed the smallish gift, wrapped with Silver paper just like all his other ones, a turquoise bow on this one to denote its being for Tucker.

  
         Oh boy... He hoped he'd made the right choice with this one... It was super easy to have messed up any one of these, but Tucker’s had been brutal. Because, frankly, whenever he'd tried to think of things he knew about the guy, all he could come up with was shit he didn't like!  
  
Outside of his big ego and proclivity for being sex-obsessed, all Simmons could think of was that he had a sword! Stupid alien prophecy-! And that was when he'd thought of it. There was one other thing Tucker had...

  
The call to the Sangheili homeworld had been tricky and further complicated by the fact that Simmons didn't speak a word of their languages but thankfully they had interpreters who spoke his. It had been awkward but he'd eventually gotten the... woman? (Fairly sure they were a woman) to understand what he wanted and how (she seemed very amused) he was finally able to get the gift.

  
"Well this isn't very big," Tucker groused, turning the package over and back.  
  
"Just open it!" Grif shouted, over his sister's gleeful shriek of "That's what I said!"  
  
"Fine, fine!" Tucker huffed, ripping the paper off the box, "probably some kind of nerd shit any-" The dark-skinned man stopped mid-sentence, staring down at the contents, and for a brief moment Simmons thought he saw just a hint of wetness in his eyes.  
  
Tucker swiftly blinked it away and held up the card made of glued together shapes, cut from colorful paper with various figures drawn on it with some kind of paint, "Come on dude the gift is supposed to be from you!"  
  
"Who is it from?" Washington asked, leaning over to get a better look.  
  
"From Tucker Junior!" Tucker beamed proudly, fishing out the small picture Simmons had framed and tucked under the card, a rather nice and more recent one showing Junior standing in front of some probably important or at least nice looking building, his small mandibles flared out in the Sangheili version of a smile.  
  
"Some of it's from me!" Simmons blurted, voice pitching to a crack in his protest. "I framed the picture and there's stuff in the card too!"  
  
Curious, Tucker opened the handmade assemblage of paper, brow furrowing in both confusion and amusement at the bit of plastic inside, "What's this?"  
  
"Uh," Simmons flustered, "I know you don't really get to see Junior a lot and, uh... I know how that must make him feel." Simmons winced when he realized what he’d said. TMI TMI! Pull it back! "So I, uh," he cleared his throat, "I called him? Told him about the holiday, and, uh... I asked him what he would most like to do with you if he could so..." his face reddened a bit. "Seems he really likes space and stuff so I got you guys passes to the new planetarium they're opening on Chorus. They have a theater and everything. It's supposed to really be something!" the redhead petered off.  
  
"Thank you," Tucker said quietly a moment later, his eyes tracing the alien language written down inside the card. "This is actually pretty cool of you." He regained his composure, "I mean for, like, a Red and a nerd and all."  
  
Simmons huffed indignantly as the rest of the group giggled. Ah well, that had gone surprisingly okay, right?

 

* * *

 

“Kaikaina!”

 

“Fuck yeah!” The younger Grif cheered. “Shower me with gifts, bitches!”

  
         “Well,” Tucker said, searching for his gift, “I was going to give you the gift of _me_ -”

 

“I don’t accept regifts,” Kai interrupted which got a laugh out of the other Blue.

 

“Yeah yeah, yuk it up,” he shushed her by passing over an envelope with an oversized yellow ribbon stuck to it.  
  
It ended up being a gift card for… somewhere. Simmons felt his face flush as he managed to make out the suggestive emblem stamped into the black privacy slip the card was inside. Kai’s evil laugh, and Grif’s seething glare in Tucker’s direction confirmed his suspicions. How could Tucker not be embarrassed giving someone a gift like- like _that_ !? Wait...because he was Tucker obviously. Ugh!

  
         Carolina’s gift turned out to be more... practical? It was a handheld taser. “For the rabble,” she clarified as Kai turned the device around, grinning like a mad woman at the loud _crack_ the electric charge gave off. “I imagine you get a lot of people who forget that personal space is a thing at the events you organize.”  
  
Kai nodded, “You would not believe. Like, the nerd cons? Dudes there need to step _back_ . Also shower. Please shower. Like jesus!”  
  
“...Why are you looking at me like that…?” Grif asked Simmons with a warning tone.

 

Simmons feigned innocence, leaning away from where he’d been pointedly staring at Grif, “Hmm? Me? Oh, no reason.” He bit his lip and failed to failed to smother a laugh when Grif tossed a ball of crumpled wrapping paper at him. “Ass,” he laughed.  
  
“Dick,” Grif taunted, fighting a laugh of his own.  
  
“Children, please. Behave.” Locus intoned from between them.

  
         Caboose and Sarge were next. Kai tilted her head in confusion as she held up the oddly shaped… thing? “Uh… is this like… For a _dude_ ?” Tucker choked from his seat, Carolina snickered, Donut looked intrigued, Girf looked pissed, and Washington joined Simmons in trying to phase out of reality from embarrassment by proxy.  
  
“That’s a gun cozy!” Sarge barked indignantly, “Its to keep your gun safe and warm!”  
  
“So, is that like… and innuendo?” Kai asked.

 

“‘In you’ nothin’’!” Sarge shot back. “It's just for what I said! You put it over yer gun! The kind that puts bullets in people!”  
  
Kai opened her mouth to shoot back something else probably even worse than before but Grif shushed her. “Put your taser in it,” he said sternly. Kai huffed at having her fun spoiled, but did as her brother said, plopping the self defense tool into what could maybe be seen as an oddly shaped purse. Maybe… if you squinted.  
  
God it really did look like-

  
         “My turn!” Donut said, saving Simmons from spontaneous combustion. He eagerly handed Kai his gift, “Open it! open it!”

“Oh sweet!” Kai said, holding up a small stack of compacts, “Needed some new Eyeshadow! And it’s all glittery!” She looked over at her brother, “You’re gonna have to tell me what colors they are later, so I can label them.”  
  
Grif groaned, “Do I have to?”

 

Simmons rolled his eyes, “I’ll help you Kaikaina.”

 

“Really?” she asked in surprise.  
  
“Sure, I never pass up an opportunity for organizing!”  
  
She giggled, “Nerd. Thanks in advance though!”

 

         Washington’s offering was a few albums of music he thought Kai might like. He looked a bit on edge as she went through the list of bands and songs contained on the other wise innocent little data chip.  
  
“Well, who’d have known?” she teased. “Looks like you have pretty good taste in music. Good for a _cop_ anyway.” Kai flashed him a heated look. “So, were you into the party scene before you got all boring?” She laughed hard at his scandalized expression.  
  
Locus came to the former agent’s rescue with his gift.  
  
“Yes! I’ve been waiting for this!” Kai declared, “Hit me up with that good booze, my dude!”

  
         Locus looked at her flatly, passing her the package, “Yes, well. Forgive me if it’s a little too on the nose, but when I was looking through all the options this one stuck out to me.”  
  
“ **Okolehao** !” Kai cheered when she revealed the golden brown bottle. “Aww man, this is so cool! I haven't had this since like.... was I 14, Dex?” she asked. “I think I was… When did you score that bottle?”  
  
Grif shrugged, “That’s probably about right. I told you not to drink it: you were underage.”  
  
“So were you!” she shot back. “You should totally share this with me,” she crooned to Carolina. “It’s basically like Vodka or Moonshine. This shit will fuck you up! Best part is we make it with the   _Ti_  plant so it's all sweet and shit, and different brewers put different fruit in it, so it's super good!”  
  
Carolina looked intrigued, “I might just take you up on that.”  
  
“ _Yeeeeees!_ ” Kai moaned dramatically. “Get shit faced with me ‘Linaaaaa! I need someone to console meeeee! My brother is taking all the hot guys, and now I find out the new hot one has great taste in booooooze!!!”  
  
“Quit embarrassing the family!” Grif scolded, leaning over to pinch his sister in the side.  
  
“Ow!” she squealed, leaning over to pinch him back. “Who’s calling the pot black!? You’re the one who has _two_ husbands!”  
  
Simmons choked and made a garbled squeaking sound as his face lit up bright red. Wait! Wait what?! Hold on! He wasn’t- They weren’t ready for- Not that he hadn’t considered- but he was hoping finding out would involve a more private setting and, maybe, a nice atmosphere and, oh god, what was he even thinking!? Beside him Locus made a similar sound, his darker complexion hiding most of the outward signs of his internal distress, if Simmons wasn’t so close he might have missed how stiff he sat, the way his eyebrow twitched, or how his hand tightened on the sleeve of his shirt where it was crossed.  
  
“NOT YET I DON’T!” Grif blurted, freezing when he registered what he’d said.  
  
Donut squealed at an octave only dogs could hear, Tucker’s face lit up like Christmas, Sarge looked like he’d pass out, Caboose looked confused, Carolina had a shit eating grin on her face, and Washington looked like he was warring with at least seven different emotions and failing spectacularly.  
  
“AH HA! I KNEW- Ahh!” Kai shrieked when Grif whapped her with a pillow from the couch. “Stop!” she laughed when he wacked her again. “Dex no!” She flung her arms around the pillow like a koala so he couldn’t take it away and instead the two siblings started wrestling for it.  
  
“I’m not giving you your gift now,” Grif huffed, out of breath and giving up.  
  
“Waaaaat!? Noo!” Kai wailed, shoving her stolen pillow back at her brother, like that would fix the problem. “Dex noooooo! I want my present! I got you a present, too!”

 

Grif made it all of two seconds of his sister’s pleas before he caved and passed her a large box, “Fine, but you better be grateful. This is like the best gift you could get, period.”

 

Oh. Simmons felt his nerves creep back up, maybe this time he shouldn’t go last? Grif’s gift probably was just that good. He knew his sister better than anyone so…

“Oh my gosh, it’s Cinnamon!” Kai cried, with a sudden burst of nostalgia.  
  
Simmons perked at the sound of Grif’s pet name for him, further surprised to see Kai hugging a large, brown, fluffy, stuffed bear.  
  
“It's not him specifically,” Grif pointed out, “That’s kind of impossible, but he looks just like him so…”  
  
“Who’s Cinnamon?” Caboose asked, hand in the air like he was waiting to be called on.

 

Kai unburied her face from the fluff to answer, “Cinnamon was Dex and I’s bear from when we were little!” She grinned at her brother. “He was Dex’s first, and then he passed him down to me! We had him for like, forever! All the way until he was so worn out he fell apart. It was sad, but we did give him a bitching Viking funeral! Made him a little raft, lit it up, and sent him out to sea! Like a badass!” She hoisted the bear up for everyone to see. “And now he’s been reincarnated! Cinnamon 2! Wait that sounds stupid... just Cinnamon then!”

 

Simmons felt a warm kind of tightness in his chest. Cinnamon, huh? Did that mean that, at least a little bit, that Grif had thought of that nickname for him because of how much the bear had meant? He blushed, busing himself in finding Kai’s gift, he was just being silly, it was probably just a coincidence.

  
  
         “So,” Simmons began awkwardly, handing the oddly shaped package to Grif to pass to Kai, “I don’t know if I did this right? I looked into some stuff about Hawaii, and I _think_ this is right?”  
  
“Oh!” Kai chirped when she pulled the paper off, “It’s a pineapple!”  
  
“Yeah,” Simmons continued, “It took a bit to find someone who’d ship it out here, they don’t exactly have them on Chorus… Though I guess they do now, I could only get them in bulk. So...” he coughed. “But, uh, yeah, it's supposed to be a ‘welcome’ thing, right? And since you’re staying here, well, I mean like, when you’re not working and stuff I thought it might be a good choice…?” He trailed off feeling like he’d put his foot in his mouth.

 

Kai grinned, “You got it right! Well, I mean partially.” Her smile turned more mischievous, “Pineapples mean other stuff too, depending.” She leaned over almost conspiratorially towards Grif. “Like see, sometimes it means ‘you’ve overstayed your welcome and need to go the fuck home’.” Simmons felt his face pale a little, uh oh… had he said that unintentionally? “The ‘welcome’ one you give when someone first gets there.” Oh crap. “The ‘go home’ one you leave on their bed.” Oh… not crap? Wait. He was confused. “Giving one just on its own can mean lots of stuff, doesn’t it, Dexter?” Grif looked uncomfortable. “In particulaaaar,” Kai continued, seeming to draw to the part of her impromptu lesson she’d been waiting for, “It can mean, ‘welcome to our family’.”

 

Oh. Oh! So that was good! Right?  
  
“That’s-” Simmons stammered, “Is that good?”  
  
Kai gave him a wink past her brother’s blushing face, “Yes, that’s good. Thank you, Dick!”

 

* * *

 

  
"Carolina!"  
  
The former freelancer smirked, leaning back in her seat, an eyebrow raised as if in challenge. It probably was. Okay... Deep breaths, it'd be fine. Right?  
  
Carolina tended to keep a lot of things close to her chest. It was hard to determine much about her just by looking and even harder to ask. Much as he might have improved in his “talking to girls” issue, she was still terribly imposing. The most interaction he generally had with her that didn't involve other people was when she'd pop up when he was doing his morning routine. She was there almost every time he went on his jog. Even then they didn't say much to each other, but he found the presence of another person to be kind of comforting. He hoped she thought the same, he'd hate to be so much of a bother...

  
         Donut presented her with a gift containing a wide variety of makeup. An assortment of eyeshadows, lip glosses, and nail polish. He must have been oddly on the money because Simmons saw a look of delighted surprise flicker across her face. For some reason she didn't seem the type to like makeup, but given Donut's own propensity for it and the fact that several people (including Sarge shocking enough) had been coerced into letting him do their nails he supposed it wasn't fair to pass judgment or make assumptions.

  
         Kai's gift followed a similar vein, but probably not born of any innate knowledge of Carolina's person or anything. Yeah, the more he got to know Kai, the more he understood that she just kind of... Did things? So Carolina opening the box to find just the sparkliest, itty bitty, black cocktail dress should not have been as much of a shock as it actually was. Really the most impressive part was the fluorescent aqua tights that were underneath it, good on Kai for matching that color.  
  
"Do. Not." Carolina said lowly, not even looking away from her gift when Tucker opened his mouth. Whatever he was going to say, dying in his throat as a garbled squeak. Between the two of them, Washington seemed torn between laughter and maybe disintegrating? He was biting his lip so hard Simmons worried he might break the skin.  
  
"There's more in there," Kai grinned, gesturing to the box. "Like, I noticed that you have, like, fucking nothing in your closet that you can party in! So I got you a whole outfit! Its gonna look fucking bitching! Don't worry. I know these things!"  
  
Carolina raised an eyebrow, pulling out a pair of boots, made to look like combat boots, but with a heel that was absolutely **not** regulation. "And just how did you figure out what size clothes I wear?" she asked hesitantly, pulling out a plastic protector that held the glimmer of earrings and a rather daring choker.  
  
"I have my ways," Kai crooned. " _It was Doctor Gray_ ," she whispered loudly to her brother.  
  
Carolina laughed, which turned into an excited sound when she pulled out a black leather jacket that had been folded up at the bottom of the pile.  
  
"Thought you'd like that!" Kaikaina preened.

  
         Tucker's gift was a box of throat lozenges and a digital book of voice exercises. "It's not anything bad!" he squealed in defense when a deadly glare had been focused on him. "Just to keep anything from happening to your ’beautiful’ singing voice!" The smile on his face was so strained, threatening to crack like an egg.  
  
"You sing!?" Kai asked gleefully. "I would absolutely love to hear it! Maybe you could perform at that club I'm gonna open on Chorus? There's totally no good entertainment there, like, oh my god. Of course, I wouldn't say no to a more private show either!"  
  
Tucker balked in disbelief as Carolina soaked up the admiration and seemed for just a second to consider it.

  
         Washington's gift turned out to be a joint effort between himself and Grif. Though it seemed the Blue leader did not know about Grif's penchant for pranks, the look on his face when Carolina had pulled out a leopard print thong was spectacular.  
  
Please please please! Someone tell him they got it on camera!    
  
Carolina quickly rounded on Grif, a chilling smile on her face. Grif, to his credit, could move quickly when he had to and had vaulted backward, across both Locus' and Simmons' laps, crying, "It's just a joke! A joke! Jesus, Carolina!"

 

Simmons squeaked in alarm, mechanical arm moving to support Grif's shoulders and upper back so he wouldn't crush the gifts he hadn't given yet. He nearly lost his still half full mug as he jerked it up out of the way, but Locus' hand caught his wrist, firm but gentle, keeping it stable. Simmons flushed from head to toe as his brain helpfully recounted every cheesy romance novel he’d ever read.  
  
“Thank you, Sam.” He managed to say, softly.  
  
“It’s nothing,” Locus assured him in the same quiet tone. Simmons’ burning cheeks dissagreed.  
  
With a huff and satisfied smirk Carolina seemed to forgive Grif after his mildly humiliating display and settled for shooting the offending joke garment at him like a rubber band. The rest of the gang burst out laughing, even the mildly confused Caboose, and a giggling Kai helped her brother sit up before promptly stealing the thong.    
  
"Alright!" Donut cut in, "I like a good lengthy teasing as much as anyone but we need to move on! What did you actually get her?"  
  
Washington cleared his throat, "Well, obviously, Grif and I collaborated on this one. It's supposed to be a relaxation kit." he eyed Carolina hopefully as she sifted through the true contents of the box, "There's snacks, obviously,"  
  
"I picked those," Grif chimed in, "Wash helped me figure out what kind of stuff you like."  
  
"Yes," Wash flushed. Well, At least he wasn't the only one awkward about giving personal gifts, Simmons thought, "There's also some electronic books I thought you might like, I think Grif put a blanket in there?" Grif nodded, "And... Bath bombs?" Carolina and Sarge both perked at the name, Wash rolled his eyes, "No, not like that. You put them in the tub and they make the water change color and smell nice and stuff." He shrugged awkwardly, "Seemed like with everything we've been through, you deserve a break?"  
  
"If it helps, one of them turns the water red so you can pretend you're bathing in the blood of your enemies." Grif pointed out, saving Wash from having to express anymore feelings.  


         Carolina choked on a laugh but seemed no less excited by this idea. Trying to get them back on track, Locus took the initiative and passed Carolina his gift: a bottle of chocolate liqueur. She looked intrigued and maybe just a touch suspicious?  
  
"My reconnaissance and interrogation of Grif and Agent Washington indicated you had a sweet tooth. I've also observed that you prefer stronger stuff but I'm afraid that was as strong as they make it." H cleared his throat, "It seemed to be in bad taste to give you hard liquor and a bottle of chocolate syrup..." the large man trailed off, he still looked clinical and professional on the surface, but Simmons was starting to pick up on his signs of feeling insecure or uncertain. It was reassuring in an odd way, to know it wasn't just him worrying about things... Grif and Washington's gift had been really good! But that made sense didn't it? They were much closer to her than him (Washington especially) and that was his own fault after all, too awkward to hold a proper personal conversation with her even.  


         The redhead was shaken from his self-deprecating monologue by Locus subtlety nudging his side. Oh! Right he had a gift to give too! Once Sarge and Caboose were done. Looks like they gave her a... What was that?  
  
"A...grenade...cozy..?" Carolina asked slowly.  
  
"You betcha!" Sarge puffed out his chest proudly. "Set of six! A soldier can't be unprepared in this colder weather! You don't want the pin to get frozen! Or pushed out of alignment and go off," he finished ominously. Caboose nodded sagely, as though he understood that, well... It was crazy enough so, maybe he did?  
  
"And! They are made up. Of _all_ the colors of our _armor!_ " the Blue chirped. "So, it will be like all of your friends are hugging your grenades! To keep them safe and warm for you!"  
  
"I, uh... Thank you?" Carolina tried.  
  
"Like chickens!" Caboose emphasized.  
  
"I still-! Still have a gift!" Simmons squeaked, trying in vain to save both Carolina and Caboose from wherever this was going.

 

The former freelancer looked grateful for the out as she took the package from him. Wrapped in reflective silver paper like the others with a pale teal bow.  


         Simmons watched in nervous anticipation as she opened it. He'd only been able to think of her morning exercise regimen when writing down what he knew. The other things weren't things you could get gifts for. That or they were too personal and probably painful. He'd thought of one other thing...hopefully that wasn't overstepping his bounds... Crap it probably was!  
  
"Let me know if that doesn't fit!" he stammered as Carolina pulled out the sleek black thermal jogging shirt and pants he'd folded neatly in the box. "It's getting colder, but I thought you'd probably still want to run. They're supposed to be really good: they trap body heat, but they're supposed to breath, too, so you don't overheat!" He felt a bit relieved at her keen grin when she pulled the winter vest out too. A kind of retro look he'd thought would suit her, a mid-2000's kind of call back, in a pastel seafoam green with the nice horizontal pleats, sturdy princess line seams to help it be more form-fitting, zipper closures and snap covers over them on the middle and pockets. It had a hood too, removable if she didn't like it, and a tasteful bit of white faux fur trim around the base, collar, and hood.  
  
"Niiiice," Carolina assessed, turning the garment around and examining it from different angles, she shot a smirk Washington's way. "Looks like you can't get on my case anymore about going out if it snows," she teased.  
  
"Oh no!" Tucker mock crooned, "Simmons is usurping you as team mom! “

  
"More like team Cop!" Kai chimed in.  
  
Washington huffed and Tucker laughed, "Maybe I should have given him the vest? Better watch out or he'll be the cool parent! We'll just go ask him when you say no!"  
  
"Please don't," Simmons whined, face reddening under Washington's sudden and surprisingly intense gaze. Was he actually taking this seriously? Did he actually feel threatened?!

 

         "There's um- one other thing!" he managed to get out, fidgeting slightly as his anxiety started to sneak up his spine, making his palms sweat and his scalp prickle. "It's in the right pocket..." Carolina fished the small bit of tech out and looked at it curiously. "If you put it near your cranial implant and hold the big button down it will sync up. He, I mean, **it** , IT will keep track of stuff for you! Like how long you're running, how far, the temp outside, your vitals. Stuff like that. It's like having a HUD outside your suit. The program is really basic, but..." He trailed off as Carolina followed his instructions, eager to test it out.  
  
Simmons swallowed hard when he saw her expression switch to surprise then immediately into something more unreadable. He knew she must be seeing and hearing the avatar he'd chosen for the program. He'd done the best he could, used everything he knew about programming to get it as close as possible. He'd been so sure it would be comforting, but now... he must have overstepped his bounds, "If you don't like the interface you can change it! There's probably plenty of skins you can download!" he babbled. God he'd been so stupid! He'd just thought- you know, Carolina wasn't the kind of person to keep photos, but she'd probably want a momento, wouldn't she? This had seemed like a good fit, personal and private that only she could see. Maybe comforting? If she felt lonely?  If she...missed _him_ ? Obviously he had a wire crossed somewhere! Really who would want the memory of their already complicated Father/Brother/Friend reduced to a skin and voice for a personal tracker? What kind of insensitive idot-!?  
  
"Simmons," he jerked when Carolina called his name quietly, from beside his head. She'd gotten up from her seat, probably because he'd been having a minor melt down and everyone was staring at him. He swallowed and turned to face her wrath- oh, wait, she was...smiling? It was faint, a little sad maybe? But it was there, "Thank you," she told him, "This was a really...Thoughtful gift."  
  
"Oh," he stammered, "I'm glad. I thought, um, that I'd screwed it up. It was a weird choice..."  
  
She laughed, and briefly, he thought her eyes looked just a bit wet before she blinked and it was gone, "Maybe, but it's safe to say that we're all kind of weird so I think it works." She leaned in close and whispered so only he could hear, "Church would be absolutely livid you made him the avatar. It's perfect. I love it."  
  
She gave him a good-natured slap on the shoulder and made her way back to her seat.  
  
"What was that?" Tucker butted in. "What's weird? What did he do?" He shot Simmons a slightly weirded-out look. “Did he make himself the avatar for your weird work out thing?"  
  
Carolina snorted, flopping back onto the sofa like she owned the place, "It's Wash."  
  
Washington choked on his mug off coffee, Tucker patting him on his back as they both squawked, "What?!"  
  
"A team mom joke, right, Simmons?"  
  
"Uh, y-yeah," looks like he was right about the privacy thing.  
  
"He was worried I didn't think it was funny," Carolina assured the group. "I was just surprised."  
  
"Please change it," Washington wheezed. "You guys are going to kill me!"  
  
Carolina laughed, assuring him she would. She looked, brighter? But, maybe that was just Simmons' imagination.

 

* * *

 

 

“Grif! Oops, I mean Dexter!” Donut giggled, “Sorry Kai!”  
  
Grif sighed and rolled his eyes, “Why am I not surprised that I’m almost last.” His eyes narrowed. “Now that I think of it, only Simmons, Locus, and me are left… You rigged this didn’t you, Donut?”  
  
Donut scoffed, “Now why would I do that?” Grif cocked an eyebrow. “I didn’t!” he insisted. “The only one that isn’t random is Simmons, he’s last because everyone knows he prefers to be the last to finish these things! He wants to make sure everyone else is satisfied first! It’s very kind of him G-Dexter, you should be nicer!”  
  
Grif grimaced, “That doesn’t explain like anything the fuck else I just said but whatever. It’s like talking to a wall…”

 

“You’re so mean…” Donut whined, a crocodile whine, like crocodile tears, only more… Donut.  
  
“Whatever,” Grif leaned back in his seat, “Gift me.”

 

“Okie dokie!” Donut, chirped. “Who wants to go first?”

 

“First” turned out to be Washington, his gift turned out to be a “Low Spoons” Cookbook, “I know that you like snacks and stuff,” the Blue leader explained as Grif looked it over. “I thought that you might like to know how to make some of them,” he floundered when Grif looked at him flatly. “The stuff in there is really easy so I thought you might want to make them, uh… with someone…”  
  
Even though Grif absolutely 100% had to know _who_ Wash was talking about, in true Grif fashion, he ignored the two men beside him entirely and shifted his gaze to Carolina, “You know how to bake?” he challenged.  
  
“Psh,” she scoffed, not quite as convincing as normal. “Of course I can.”  
  
“Then, Grasshopper,” Grif replied in a mildly offensive accent, “our next lesson will be on… cookies.”

 

“I will kick its ass,” Carolina vowed, a smile tugging at her lips. She reached down to grab a box, passing it to him. “This one is from me.”

 

Grif grinned, “ _Yeeeees_!” he pushed the paper fully off of a circular tin full of assorted cookies and treats. “I love these things! Tell me it has those rainbow cake ones in it…” He popped off the lid, the faint scent of sugar wafting past Simmons’ nose, “It does!”

 

Reflexively Simmons reached over Locus to snatch up the tin, “At least wait till everyone is done before you eat them all!”  
  
“But my _cookieeeeees_ !” Grif whined. “ _Locuuuuus_ , make him give them back!”  
  
Locus gently pushed Grif back into his seat, “Sorry, but I’m siding with Simmons on this one. It would be rude to eat them all while people are still giving gifts.”  
  
“At least let me have _one_ !”  
  
Simmons sighed, “Fine, just one.”  
  
“Of each!”  
  
“One!” Simmons said firmly, handing Grif a Neapolitan (the rainbow layer cookies) Grif grumbled but took it, shoving the whole thing into his mouth at once.

 

“Maybe I should give this to you then, Simmons,” Wash joked, holding up a similarly shaped gift.  
  
Grif looked pleadingly at his two boyfriends.  
  
“One?” Locus asked, checking with Simmons.  
  
“One,” came the reply, the cyborg holding firm.  
  
Grif helped himself to a second Neapolitan.

 

         Tucker went next. As Grif unwrapped his present, he smiled slyly, “I guess this is food, too, but you probably would want to wait till later.”  
  
Grif raised an eyebrow and then shot Tucker a look, “Edible Body Paint,” he read slowly. “Dude, you are _way_ too into my private life.”  
  
“Hey, someone has to look out for you! If you screw this up, it will be another _decade_ of pining, and my fucking heart can’t take it, man!”  
  
“I don’t know if that was meant to be like, supportive or something, but now I’m just super uncomfortable…” Grif muttered, still looking at the box, “Plus we’re already together so…”  
  
“Aww Tucker!” Donut whined. “Why didn’t you check with meeee!? You almost made me a copycat gifter! Now it’s all ruined!”  
  
The three men on the couch all wilted in mutual horror as Donut produced a fucking _GIFT BASKET_ from who the hell knew where and handed it to Grif with a sulky pout. Sure enough the same body paints were in there, along with a number of… other edible...things, that made Simmons want to bury himself in the yard.  
  
“Donut!” Grif shouted, “Oh my god! What did we say about shit like this! You can’t just give us-! Oh hey,” he stopped, suddenly distracted, “Is that chocolate?”  
  
“Three different kinds,” Donut preened.

 

“I’m going to put this on ice cream.”  
  
“Grif no!” Donut wailed.

  
         “Enough of this nonsense!” a terribly embarrassed and red faced Sarge interrupted. Simmons prayed to whatever imaginary god saw fit to save them his very deepest gratitude, “I don’t need to be exposed to any more of this...This!” He gestured to Grif. “Give him his gift Caboose! So we can put this horror show behind us!”  
  
“Please do,” Carolina moaned, face hidden behind her hands.  
  
“Yeah,” Kaikaina agreed, “Like that kinky shit is hot, but like this is my _brother_ , so that’s super gross.”  
  
“Agreed.” Simmons muttered under his breath.  
  
“So Grif is gross but the basket is ‘hot’?” Locus murmured, barely audible, right by his ear.  
  
Simmons flushed. “No!” he hissed. “I mean yes! I mean, the basket is a very inappropriate gift!”

Locus gave him a knowing smile but said nothing.

 

Grif took the box from Caboose with audible relife, hiding Donut’s… _gift_ , behind the couch. They weren’t going to throw it away, obviously, but this wasn’t- it was just really embarrassing okay!?  
  
“Uh,” Grif tilted his head, “Are these, socks?”  
  
“Yes!” Sarge beamed with pride. “They require three needles, very difficult to make! But it was worth it to see the look of despair on your face!”  
  
“The look of what on my- what are you talking about?”  
  
“No one likes getting socks! Everyone knows that!” Sarge snapped. “It was the perfect plan!”  
  
“There’s like six pairs in here,” Grif mused.  
  
“SEVEN! Disappointment for everyday of the week!”  
  
“They’re all orange?”  
  
“ **THE COLOR OF DISAPPOINTMENT!** ” Caboose shouted, clearly mimicking Sarge.

 

“Uh huh,” Grif blinked slowly. “Thank you?”  
  
“These look really warm,” Simmons observed.  
  
“Haven’t your feet been cold at night?” Locus asked.  
  
Sarge harrumphed in his chair muttering about ‘good for nothing Grifs’ not even knowing how to be properly disappointed.  
  
“Speaking of actually,” Locus said, passing Grif a box. “I think you’ll find this useful.”  
  
“It's not booze?” Grif asked, almost disappointed.  
  
“No, I can get you that at any time if you really want it,” Locus replied with a small amount of amusement.

  
Pulling the box open Grif was greeted with a square of fluffy plaid. A kind of coppery red orange over all, with the pattern made of red, yellow, green, and white, “Oh sweet!” he mused as he unfolded it. “A blanket.”  
  
“It’s ideal for cold weather,” Locus told him. “It’s also hand woven. I bought it on one of the colonies I visited a month or two back. Their planet has a cooler climate over all so the winters can be pretty brutal. It seemed like a good choice.”  
  
“It’s so _waaaaaarm_ ,” Grif crooned, already ensconcing himself in the fluff. “G’night!”  
  
“Hey wait!” Simmons whined. “I still have to give you my gift!”  
  
“Well then give it,” Grif mumbled, begrudgingly extracting himself.  
  
“Well, I mean,” Simmons suddenly stalled, “It's kind of got a part that’s for both you and Locus…”  
  
“Then give him his now.”  
  
“I- I mean I could but… but um…”

 

“It's alright,” Locus interceeded. “Just give him his when you give me mine. I’ll go next?”  
  
Simmons nodded in relief, “Yes please!”

 

         “That’s fine!” Kai grinned, butting in. “Because my gift is the best!” She leaned backwards over the arm of the couch, just to be a pain, handing Grif an envelope.

Grif shooed her away, ripping open the envelope. He stilled when he looked inside.  
  
“I know we don’t have like, the best memories from back there,” Kai said, surprisingly quiet, “but I thought maybe you’d want some that weren’t crap.”  
  
Simmons saw Grif swallow visibly, “Yeah,” he murmured, voice thick. He cleared his throat. “Thanks, Sis,” he reached over to grab her into a one-armed hug.  
  
“What is it?” Simmons asked.  
  
“Just, uh, some pictures,” Grif said, trying to be nonchalant. He tilted the envelope so Simmons could see. Inside were several photographs, in the ones Simmons could make out were two little kids, very similar in appearance with one clearly older than the other. They were playing in the water at the beach, sitting on the front porch of presumably their house, and possibly one from some kind of Halloween event? In all of them, they were smiling. “Thank you,” Grif said again into his sister's messy mop of hair.

 

“You’re welcome, Dex,” she replied.

 

Simmons vowed to get a nice, easily disguised, photo album for them.

 

 

* * *

 

 

         Donut huffed, “Well, I guess I don’t need my hat of names any more, but I’m still calling them out! Locus!” He fished out another brightly wrapped box, “And just incase a certain so and so,” he shot Tucker a look, “Had a similar idea, I’m going to go first so mine isn’t _ruined_ !”

Locus humed when he pulled the paper off, looking at the series of bottles inside the clear plastic box, “And this is?”  
  
“Massage oil!” Donut chirped excitedly, “I couldn’t make up my mind so I got a set! There’s all sorts of wonderful scents! A nice spicy sandalwood! There’s a peppermint that’s nice and chilly! Oh oh! And a cinnamon one that’s supposed to be nice and warm! I know how tough guys like you love to work out! And by the end you’re all sore and _stiff_ ! I also know that sometimes Simmons joints hurt from the cybernetics! And Grif’s muscles from the transplants! I figured this would be useful! I mean when you’re all stressed and wanting, sometimes you just need to _rub-_ !”  
  
“Thank you! Private Donut,” Locus interrupted. “This was a… well thought out gift.”  
  
“Oh goodness! You’re welcome! And you can just call me Donut!”  
  
“Very well, Donut. Thank you.”  
  
The Red soldier preened, looking around the room as if in challenge to the next person who would give a gift.

  
         That person was Carolina, who handed Locus a thin package. Inside was a memory stick, “Since you’ve proven that you were serious about the whole ‘Making things right’ thing, I compiled a list of resources for you. Contacts that can help you out, places that are probably in need of some assistance. There’s also an emergency beacon keyed into the frequency our armor uses, so if you get into trouble you can call for help.” She told him, eyes sweeping over the room, “I’m sure I don’t need to tell you, but, just in case, take it from me; being too proud to ask for help can hurt those who care about you, even more than it can hurt you.”

 

“Thank you, Agent Carolina.” Locus said almost reverently, carefully pocketing the drive to look at later. “I promise to take that to heart.”  
  
“Good,” she told him. Leaning back in her seat she nudged Washington.

  
         The other ex-freelancer produced a box of his own, passing it over with a “Careful, its heavy.” The box turned out to contain various boxes of ammunition, most for a sniper rifle, the same model as Locus’, others for a standard issue pistol, “This is kind of in the same vein as Carolina’s gift,” Washington said. “Back during the whole Blues and Reds thing I thought I remembered you saying something about not wanting to do lethal damage? Something about Monkey Island, too, but I didn’t really know what you meant by that.” He shifted a bit awkwardly in his seat. “So, uh, yeah, I got you a bunch of different kinds of non lethal rounds. There are things like impact rounds and EMP rounds for people in armor like ours, and rubber bullets for people who aren’t.”

 

Locus looked down at the ammo cache with an expression about as close to awe as he got, “Thank you, Agent Washington. These will be invaluable. I won’t need to take nearly as many risks.”  
  
“Good,” Grif grumbled to his left. “Risk taking is fucking stupid. More important to come back alive, without leaving behind any body parts!”

 

“Agreed!” Tucker chimed in, fetching his gift. “I’m not really into that mushy shit, but, um, I mean, I know what it’s like to lose people and to think you lost even more so. And I fucking bet that you’re just like Wash and Simmons when it comes to not fucking sleeping.”  
  
“Hey!” the accused blurted out in unison.  
  
“SO!” Tucker continued, “I got you that.”  
  
Locus held up the metal thermos he’d unwrapped, “A thermos?”  
  
“Yeah, it's like, got a wireless link up to your bio signs and shit, its for health nuts. It keeps track of what you put in it and how much you drink, and it's got a clock, too. So like, if you drink tons of coffee and don’t sleep it will yell at you.” He gestured to Simmons with his chin, “And I bet your super nerd, cyborg, boyfriend is already figuring out how to get it to tell him if you’re ‘bad’.”  
  
“I am not!” Simmons protested. He wasn’t! … Okay, he _was_ , but could he be blamed? Really now!

 

         “We also have a gift for sleeping!” Caboose clamored excitedly, fetching the semi lumpy package and shoving it into a flustered Locus’ hands.  
  
“What’s this?” Locus asked, unwrapping it.  
  
“Blanket!” Sarge answered. “Grilled Grif long enough that he finally told us about your sleeping arrangements on your fancy ship! Or should I say, LACK THEREOF!” Locus looked almost sheepish. “Seems you do most of your sleeping in your pilot seat! And when you _do_ use your bunk, it's basically threadbear! Now this will just not do! A good soldier needs his rest, son! And if you’re not going to get a decent blanket, then, by god, it's up to me,and Caboose, to make one for you!”  
  
“It has all of our colors!” Caboose added.  “So it is, like. We are all. Watching over you. While you sleep. Yes.”  
  
“I, admit,” Locus said slowly, “I don’t know what to say.”  
  
“Say thanks!” Kai supplied, tossing him her own gift, “And check it, dude! Now you’ll be even less alone!”

  
Inside was a picture frame. A digital one. Seemed that Kaikaina had gotten Locus’ gift with a similar idea to her brother’s. Inside the frame, a slideshow of images slowly ticked from one to another. There were some group pictures, taken at various times, one or two from that reporter Dillan’s special she’d done on them. Most though were of some combination of Grif, Locus, and Simmons taken when none of them had known apparently. The sight of it made Simmons feel mushy inside. He could imagine it sitting on the storage unit next to Locus’ bunk, glowing softly in the dark, bringing him comfort on a long and lonely trip.  
  
Simmons silently swore to find a way to get even more photos for it.

 

         “Way to be all dramatic you guys!” Grif grumbled, though his heart clearly wasn’t in it. “I didn’t get you anything stupid fancy,” he said, passing Locus his gift. “Just your basic trip survival kit!”  
  
“These are all snacks,” Locus pointed out, gesturing to the contents.  
  
“Yup,” Grif said, feigning disinterest.  
  
“Aren’t they, yours though?” Locus asked, softer than before.  
  
“Psh, no! If they were _mine_ I’d have eaten them all! And that’s not all that’s in there!” Grif, pushed a packet of Double Stuffed Fudge Oreos out of the way, pointing to something colorful underneath. “You need shit to pass the time if you’re alone on a road trip! So I got you a bunch of comics, too! All vintage and printed on paper and shit, so you better thank me!”  
  
Locus kept the box facing himself so the others wouldn’t see, and Simmons couldn’t blame him, he himself had endured plenty of teasing throughout his life for the things he liked, so a big imposing person like Locus probably didn’t want people to see the cheerful and and happy Magical Girls splashed across the covers of the various books.

“They look like they might prove to be interesting reads,” Locus drawled calmly, man, he’d picked up on and mastered their ‘pretending not to care to show you care’ ass backwards nonsense, hadn’t he? “I’ll be sure to let you know if I get around to finishing them.”  
  
“Good,” Grif said. “Now. I think all that’s left is you Simmons! Better be ready because I still want **my** gift!”

 

Simmons flushed despite the annoyed expression he pulled, “Don’t worry, your gift didn’t go anywhere, fat ass.”  
  
“Kiss ass,” Grif shot back.  
  
“Idiots,” Locus finished because he was a quick learner.

  
         Simmons fought back a hopeful smile as he passed the two of them similarly sized packages, waiting anxiously as they opened them. They’d both see the passes right on top, first thing. So… here goes. “So,” the cyborg started, “It's not on Chorus, it’s a system or two away. But, um, see there’s this- uh- convention that’s just started coming there every year, and it’s a few months away but I was hoping that, maybe, kind of sort of, you might, um… want to go with me?”  
  
Grif studied the four day pass, looking like he was trying to remember if he’d seen the name before, “So this is the one for like Cartoons and Comics and stuff?”  
  
“Scifi too!” Simmons corrected. “By the same people who do the one on Earth that has the fully interactive AI models of Stan Lee and Leonard Nimoy!”  
  
“Does it have a big artist’s alley?” Grif further pressed. Simmons knew that he was asking this not just for himself but for Locus, too, who was trying to look passive about the passes.  
  
“Yeah I think so,” Simmons said. “Probably lots of sneak previews of things, too. I know the voice cast for the new ‘Sailor Moon Eternal’ remake will be there! At least I think so.”

“Oh my god, just say you’re going!” Tucker wailed. “I don’t even understand any of that crazy nerd crap you’re talking about!”

 

“I would be glad to go,” Locus said, offering Simmons a small smile. “It looks. Interesting?”  
  
Good save, Sam! Good, save!  
  
“Great!” Simmons blurted. “Good, I mean. So. Uh, I got some, uh, neat shirts you might like to wear to it! I know we don’t have a ton of really casual things so…”  
  
“Oh sweet! A vintage Spawn shirt!” Grif shouted, putting everyone’s attention on him so Locus could peek at his own shirts unnoticed. Simmons didn’t miss the way his eyes lit up when he saw the shirt with Godform!Madoka and Devil!Homura on it, or the one underneath which silhouetted Sailor Moon against the glittering backdrop of her kingdom. Yes! Point for Simmons! He’d chosen well! He knew how much Locus secretly liked those kinds of shows. they were one of the few genres that had serious action and emotion but also carried strong messages of hope and the idea that everyone deserved to have their wounds healed so they could start again. Really sappy and cheesy sure! But… That made sense didn’t it? In a way that was kind of what they were all looking for… so…  
  
But they said they’d go! So he couldn’t be happier!

 

* * *

 

  
“Okay Simmons! Your turn!” Donut announced, “You’re the last one!”  
  
Simmons felt his scalp prickle. Oh dear… All the attention was on him now. He’d been so caught up in giving the best possible gift at the best possible time that he’d neglected to realize that that meant going LAST last, instead of next to last meant that no one had anything to be focused on now except for _him_ .  
  
Maybe he could excuse himself and not do this?

 

         He was shaken from his thoughts by something entering his field of view. I was Caboose, holding out a present, a hopeful and eager smile on his face. “Hello, Simmons! This is for you!”  
  
“Thanks, Caboose,” the redhead replied, carefully peeling back the paper, covered in all kinds of odd drawing that he thought were maybe supposed to be circuit boards? Or maybe other robotic pieces, gears and things, with a drawing of a figure in darker red armor in the center. He opened the box and pulled out its contents, brow furrowing in confusion when he saw what it was, well, rather, when he realized he _didn’t_ know what it was. There were two tube like… somethings, each a nice dark red with a kind of random nonsensical pattern in white. It looked like… Stockings? No, they were different lengths… was this like some kind of scarf set, or-?  
  
“It’s for your arm and leg, son,” Sarge said, “The parts themselves are pretty sturdy, I should know! But, if they get too cold, it's gonna put a strain on yer joints! So if you plan to go outside without your armor on you best wear these under your clothes.”  
  
Oh, he hadn’t thought of that. He had been feeling a bit sore lately, especially in the morning when it was at its coldest. “Thank you Sir!” Simmons smiled. “Thank you Caboose. I’ll be sure to wear them!”

  
         “My turn!” Kai singsonged, not bothering to get up, instead she all but flopped over her brother and stretched over Locus to hand him a smallish box wrapped in clashing purple and orange paper. She giggled as Grif shoved her off and back into her seat, “I know how you’ve got like, a weird boner for instruction manuals or whatever. So I thought, why not give you some that are like actually useful?”

  
“I don’t have a-” Simmons flushed in embarrassment. “It's not weird to read the instructions!” He pulled the box open, revealing a data pad. A quick boot up to the main screen showed that it contained numerous guides to different kinds of… dancing? This was an instruction manual for dancing? But why?  
  
“There’s more,” Kai piped up. “Under there.” She pointed to the tissue paper that filled the box. Under the top bit he found a colorful printout listing times and dates and locations. Wait, was this a schedule for all of Kaikaina’s events? “Pick at least one of them, ‘kay?” she insisted., “Like read the shit, learn to dance, and take out hunky and my brother. You snatched up the beefy dude and Dex deserves to be, like, woo’d a bit!” Beside her Grif sputtered indignantly, “So like, go be romantic and shit!”  
  
On the other side of the room Donut made a happy little squeak, covering his mouth excitedly, and Tucker hooted and tried to say, probably, something unpleasant before Washington elbowed him. Even Carolina had this knowing smile on her face. Lovely.

 

Simmons coughed, well, he supposed you could have fun at parties, right? Like in theory? Girf was far better at the social scene than he was or, at least, better at ignoring everyone and just having fun. He hadn’t seen Locus in a scenario like that yet, but… he could kind of imagine him being like way more suave…. He’d probably pull Grif out of his shell and insist on dancing and- Simmons felt his face heat up more. “Thank you Kai,” he semi squeaked, “I’ll, um… try to find one that fits into all our schedules.”  
  
“Awesome!” Kai cheered. She leaned uncomfortably close to her brother’s face, making Grif lean back, a scowl on his face. “You’re _weeeeeeelcooome_ !” she sang at him before ducking back to her seat and scooting a bit away so Grif couldn’t swat her.

  
         Donut took this opportunity to hop up, presenting Simmons with a card, and a slightly unnerving wink. "I know its a bit slim, but there's a pretty big gift inside!" he tittered, flouncing back to his seat and looking at Simmons with eager expectancy.  
  
Hesitantly Simmons opened the envelope, spotting a couple slips of paper inside. He pulled out the first and his expression faltered a bit. It was a bit larger than a business card, made of thick pink cardstock. It had clearly been made by hand, as indicated by the wide border drawn in elaborate patterns in marker and doused in glitter. In the middle it said, um, it said-  
  
"Donut?" Simmons asked tentatively, "Why does this just say, ‘Spine’?"  
  
"Oh!" Donut giggled, "I got so carried away with the decorating I ran out of room to write!" he cleared his throat delicately, "It's a coupon!"  
  
"A coupon?"  
  
"Yes! For one free spinal treatment, done by yours truly!"  
  
Simmons paled, "I'm going to regret asking but... what constitutes a ’spinal treatment’?"  
  
"Oh, lots of things!" Donut replied excitedly. "There's the classic massage, deep tissue, to tease out all that naughty stress! I thought since most of your spine is mechanical I could do a Reiki massage with magnets! Oh and also! I've been practicing acupuncture! It may seem like it’s a little painful at first, but when you poke those cute little nerves they just make you feel so yummy!”  
  
Simmons swallowed hard, painfully aware that everyone in the room had turned simultaneously to look at him. Oh god. Oh no. He had to say something, didn’t he? Oh no oh no oh no- “Uh, Thank you? I’ll think it over?”  
  
“You’re most welcome!” Donut replied, “Now that wasn’t your only present! Dig deep in there and get your reward!”  
  
Simmons groaned internally and pulled the remaining item from the envelope. It looked like a folded up cover of some kind. Oh! It was probably a gift card! Maybe it was for clothes? Donut liked fashion, even if his own tastes were… questionable, at times. But something like that would be useful! He could pick out something nice and- “‘Sweet Dreams Bridal Emporium’…” he read the name on the gift card, “Donut, what is this?”  
  
“Exactly what it looks like silly! It’s a gift card for you!”  
  
“But… But this is for a _Bridal_  store! You know, for _brides_ !” Simmons tried again.  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“But! But I’m not getting married!” Simmons voice cracked. “And I’m _NOT A BRIDE_ !”  
  
Donut scoffed, “You don’t know that!”  
  
“I would hope I did!”  
  
The pink soldier waved him off, “Now now, Simmons as much a supporter as I am for the notion that anyone can wear anything, the fact of the matter is that out of the three of you, Grif and Locus just don’t have the _figure_ for this! A nice dark suit is so much better for Locus! And Grif would look just stunning in a bold white tux!”  
  
“W-well, yes, but-” Freudian slip! Freudian slip! “That’s not the point! Why am I the _bride_ in this equation!?” Why was he entertaining this! Why couldn’t he just let this argument diiiie?  
  
“Because you have the legs for it obviously!” Donut retorted, as though that answered everything.  
  
“I… but…” Simmons struggled, not knowing how to respond to that. He looked to Locus and Grif for help and while Locus tried to offer him a look of sympathy and reassurance, Grif looked him up and down and cocked an eyebrow with an almost imperceptible nod. Simmons made a scandalized and defeated sound. “.... Thank you for your… thoughtful gift Donut.”  
  
“You’re most welcome!” Donut trilled.

 

         “Well then,” Washington piped up in the ensuing silence, Simmons mentally thanked him for the umpteenth time that evening for being the voice of reason and bringing this embarrassment to an end, “I don’t think my gift is as, um, exciting, but, I think you’ll appreciate its practicality.”  
  
Simmons took the thin, snowflake wrapped box, eagerly opening it. A soft sound of excited appreciation left him when he saw what was inside. Lined up, nice and neat, fine edges glinting in the light, were three new combat knives. Each pristine and perfect, laying on top of their leather sheaths. “Oh wow,” he breathed, “These are gorgeous!”  
  
Washington preened a little at that, “Yes well. I know that you’ve been working hard on hand to hand and close quarters combat, so I thought you might like having some good backups.” He puffed up a bit, “And of course if you ever think you need some pointers, I’m more than happy to lend you a hand!”  
  
Beside him, Tucker snorted, turning away in a vain attempt to hide his laughter. Washington glare at him and Simmons thought he saw just a hint of pink on the Blue leader’s face.  
  
“Stop that!” Washington ordered.

  
Tucker only laughed harder, “God, you’re so obvious. Can you, like, _be_ more butt hurt?”  
  
“Carolina!” Wash whined, looking to his partner for support.  
  
Carolina only choked on a laugh and waved her hand dismissively, “I can’t help you here Wash, he’s got you.”  
  
Simmons frowned in confusion, he hadn’t the slightest idea what they were talking about. Tucker almost made it sound like Washington was jealous or something. That would be stupid though. What on earth could he (Simmons) possibly have done to make someone as skilled as Washington feel on edge? He shook his head and went back to admiring his new knives, it was probably just a stupid Blue Thing™.

 

         “My turn,” Carolina laughed, passing Simmons a moderately sized box, “Mine is in the same vein as Wash’s. It’s not knives though.”

 

Curious now, Simmons opened her gift, humming with interest at what lay inside. They looked like gloves almost, except with no fingers, they were made of red leather and the top part appeared to be well padded. Across the black wristband at the bottom was the name “Dick”. “Are these handguards?” he asked Carolina who nodded.  
  
“I know mostly we just jog together, but, like Wash said, I’ve seen you practicing once or twice and thought these might be helpful.” She smiled mischievously, “I also thought you might like to practice with an actual person.”  
  
“You mean with you?” Simmons stammered. With _Carolina_!? For real!? She’d murder him in ten seconds flat!

 

“Consider it a formal invitation,” she teased. “Don’t worry, I’ll go easy on you.”  
  
“Th-thank you,” Simmons replied nervously. “I, um, I look forward to your instruction?” he added stiffly, feeling like a total tool.  
  
“Dagnabit!” Sarge barked, “You Blues with your gifts and tempting wiles! Stop trying to steal my men!”  
  
“I’m not stealing anyone Sarge,” Carolina replied, rolling her eyes, “and for the last time I’m not a Blue!”  
  
“Ah! So you admit you’re a Red! I always knew you’d come around! Suck it Blues!”  
  
“I’m not a Blue!” Carolina groaned, “I’m not on anyone’s ‘Team’!”

 

         “Hey,” Grif reached over and nudged Simmons while the others were squabbling, “Take this, I’m tired of holding it.”  
  
Simmons blinked as he found himself with his arms full of a rather large box. It didn’t feel particularly heavy, at least not as much as he’d been expecting. He gave Grif a questioning look and the other man rolled his eyes and made a “get on with it” motion. Pulling the top off the box Simmons made a surprised sound, “Oh wow…” he whispered, carefully pulling the old-fashioned guitar out of the box. “Oh my god, I haven't seen one of these in a million years!” He paused, “Why give it to me though?”  
  
Grif shrugged, “Well I mean, you can play the banjo and shit right?”  
  
“Yeah but-”

 

“So I mean, the guitar isn’t much different is it?”  
  
“I suppose in theory it isn’t,” the cyborg admitted, “but they still aren’t identical.”  
  
The larger man sighed, “Well, I guess if you really suck I can show you how it's done. You like learning new shit, right? Try pitting your skills against my amazing ones,” he grinned, “then you can just go to band practice for me.”  
  
Simmons frowned at him, “I thought you were in the band?  You want me to replace you?”  
  
“Only at practice.” Grif assured him, “I’m not giving you my spot. I just don’t feel like practicing! I already know how to play, so going is just a pain in the ass. You go to practice for me and I’ll do the live shows!”  
  
Simmons rolled his eyes, “Yes, all those live shows you have lined up for your untold number of fans…”

“Hey, you don’t know,” Grif retorted with a smarmy smile.  
  
Simmons laughed, cradling the guitar like he would have a banjo, they kind of sat the same way, the weight was a bit different and the guitar was larger and he would have to learn a new style of strumming and there were more strings, but… it might be nice, practicing a bit with Grif?”  
  
He heard Locus humm softly beside him, “Maybe I should get a guitar too. I haven’t played since I was a teenager. Might be nice to see if I can still do it.”  
  
The redhead felt his cheeks heat up and a shy smile grace his lips despite his best efforts. All three of them? Just spending a lazy few hours playing around with guitars? That actually sounded really nice… Okay! Yeah he knew what he was getting Locus for his birthday! ...Note to self! Find out when Locus’ birthday is!

 

        Tucker was next, declaring that there was entirely too much sap in the room, so Simmons better open his gift now before they all drowned in it. Simmons humphed at him but took the gift anyway. Inside were numerous vid chips, the labels were ones he’d never even heard of before.

 

“You nerds like artsy-fartsy foreign films right?” Tucker drawled. “These are about as foreign as they come! They’re all the most popular movies from the Sangheili homeworld from the last ten years!”  
  
“Jesus…” Simmons gaped, looking wide eyed at the treasure trove of potentially amazing media. “Thank you so much! This is amazing I- Wait...” he narrowed his eyes at Tucker, “This isn’t all just weird alien porn is it?”

  
“Oh please!” Tucker retorted. “As if I’d waste such pieces of art on you,” he laughed. “They’re just regular movies, dude, don’t get your panties in a bunch.” A pause. “I _think_ they’re all subtitled? If not I guess you’ll just have to learn the language.”

 

         “That’s an excellent segway for me actually,” Locus remarked smoothly. “Thank you, Private Tucker.” Tucker blinked and gaped a little, apparently shocked into silence. “I have two gifts for you, Richard. One is more useful, the other is just for fun really.” He handed Simmons a small box.

 

Simmons looked questionaly at him when the contents inside looked like an everyday data pad. A little fancy maybe, it had a nice black, sleek, fold over cover. He had several like this though, multi-use and single use (like the one Kai had just given him), so what was special about this one?  
  
“Now this,” Locus said with a degree of seriousness, “You need to keep safe.” He waited until Simmons nodded before continuing “This pad has a direct line into the A'rynasea’s systems. With it you can check navigation, system status, and plenty more, it's also probably the most direct line of communication available. At most, there should only be a few seconds delay with verbal communication even if I’m out past where any communication buoys are.”  
  
Simmons stared at him wide eyed, “You’re really trusting me with something like this?” He asked, almost unable to even speak. Distantly he was aware of Grif leaning over to get a good look at what would be their lifeline to Locus’ ship.  
  
“Yes.” Locus smiled, “I know no matter what I do, everyone will worry, especially you two, so this was the best solution I could think of. Now, as far as this being compromised, don’t worry about that, the data chip inside comes out just like any other data pad. This pad in particular though not only has the software needed, it’s also highly encrypted and encoded and… well… let's just say it wasn’t obtained...through regular channels. So I recommend using it only with this one.”  
  
“Oh my god,” Simmons said softly, “I don’t know what to say.”  

 

“A thank you is fine,” Locus chuckled. “As for your gift specifically, since that one is somewhat for the both of you. Though you shouldn’t touch anything on it if you don’t know what it is, _Captain Grif_ ,” he added in warning, stopping the heavier man as he was just about to sneak a hand over to poke one of the buttons on the side. Grif plopped back into his seat, whistling in mock innocence. “Anyway,” Locus continued, “your gift Simmons, is that I am going to teach you to speak Spanish.”

 

Simmons made a little embarrassing squeak sound, “Really?!”  
  
“Yes, I know you tried to learn before, but there was some sort of mistake?”  
  
“Uh, yeah… I kind of ended up learning Esperanto… by accident.”  
  
Locus laughed a little at that, “Well that should make things a little easier, it does use some parts of Spanish in it if I’m not mistaken? Be aware though that this is Americanised Spanish from Mexico and not Spanish from Spain, so it’s going to be slightly different than the bits you already know, words, syntax, things like that. But we’ll get to that later.”  
  
“Okay,” Simmons squeaked again. He was finally going to learn Spanish?! CORRECTLY this time!? Oh my gosh! He was going to be able to understand Lopez! And talk to him! Oh oh! And he could talk to Grif and Locus in it, too! And he could say all kind of personal things and no one else would know! (except for Kai and Lopez but he wouldn’t say those things around them anyway!) “Thank you! This is amazing!”

 

“I do have one more thing,” Locus added. “It's not here yet, but it's something for the three of us.”  
  
“Three of us?” it was Grif’s turn to squeak, which was fine because Simmons was pretty sure he could no longer speak.  
  
“Yes,” Locus said. “To be completely blunt. The bed in our room is _far_ too small. So I took the liberty of ordering us a king sized frame and mattress. Sheets and such as well. It will be here in a few days.”  
  
There was an almost deafening silence, Simmons could hear the whirring of his own mechanical heart thundering in his ears, his face felt spectacularly hot, his mouth worked over words that refused to come out. Eventually he was aware of a sound slowly rising in pitch and volume. This turned out to be Donut, who, when his drawn out shriek reached a fever pitch promptly fainted.  
  
This of course kicked off a chorus of shouting from the room’s other occupants.  
  
Simmons, for once, just couldn’t bring himself to care as he stared at his two boyfriends like a fucking lovestruck moron.  


 

* * *

 

  
         Sometime much later that night, three Reds (well two Reds and one Red-in-denial -about-being-a-Red stumbled into their shared room. Once some degree of normalcy had been restored and Donut revived from his “Swoon”™, they had finally gotten down to the party aspect of things. Snacks, a big dinner, lots of deserts, and of course alcohol.  
  
All of these things danced around happily in Simmons’ system as he tried not to trip over the presents they’d carefully stacked on their floor and his own feet for that matter. They’d clean that up in the morning. The gifts he meant, not his feet, those were still attached to him. Pretty sure… yes, they were.

 

“You’re a bit of a lightweight,” Locus teased, when Simmons leaned into him. Well okay, more _hugged_ him, but hey! He was allowed to!  
  
“Naaaaah,” Grif drawled, sneaking under Locus’ other arm to cling to his free side and gaze at Simmons’ goofy drunken face, “He gets wasted like… like super easy, but after that, you can just keep putting booze in him! He never goes down!”  
  
“I’m cool like that,” Simmons giggled.  
  
Locus laughed, the most open one he’d had all night, his own face was rosier and more expressive than before, too, that was the power of alcohol for you! “I think that we need to get to bed.”  
  
“ _Noooo_ ,” Grif whined, “That bed sucks. I want our big one!”  
  
“That won’t be here till…” Simmons struggled to remember, “A day? No… Not a week, less than that, but more than a day!”  
  
“Boo,” Grif said flatly, then forgot to say more. “I’m tired,” he eventually settled.

 

Now laughing quietly to himself Locus tried to maneuver their impromptu cuddle pile to their bed.  
  
“I want my socks…” Grif mumbled. “Sarge is an asshole, but I love my socks… You can’t tell him that.”  
  
“We won’t,” Simmons assured him, nearly tripping himself and Locus as he ducked down to press a messy kiss to Grif’s temple. Something that got him a happy sound in return.

 

Somehow they did make it to the bed, got in it, too, with blankets and everything! It was a tight fit though.... It hadn’t really been great for two people let alone three, but they’d all squeezed in somehow. The new bed would be really nice… They’d have to move some stuff but that was okay… He liked organizing, and Locus did, too, because he was hot like that, and Grif could do stuff when he wanted, so maybe he could bribe him with a nap in the new bed… Yeah… that would be nice…

 

....

 

....

 

....

 

“...Hey guys…” Grif whispered sleepily, Locus and Simmons hummed in reply, “There’s mistletoe on the ceiling…”  
  
Simmons giggled and pushed himself up to share a sleepy kiss with each of his boyfriends.  
  
This was nice. It really was.  
  
He loved it.  
****

**  
** **THE END**

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> All done! And yes that was 59 pages, I have a problem okay!!!? XD I hope you liked this giant piece of fluff Fine! 
> 
> Also a TITANIC thank you to Piratelynlyn for betaing this madness!
> 
> As always please let me know if there's anything I should have tagged but failed to! And feel free to let me know what you think! I love feed back of any kind, it really encourages me! If you wanna see my other stuff or just say hello you can find me on twitter @Chaos_Child or on Tumblr: http://cc-sketchbook.tumblr.com
> 
> See you guys next time! ~ Much love, CC


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